Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Georgia and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Half Japanese to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by The Sonics. All the underground hits.
All Blossom Toes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terrestrial Tones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Frankie Knuckles record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Searchers,
Eurythmics,
Bob Dylan,
Jacob Miller,
Joy Division,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Stiv Bators,
Zero Boys,
Basic Channel,
Isaac Hayes,
The Real Kids,
Boz Scaggs,
Gang Starr,
Erasure,
Jawbox,
Circle Jerks,
Bronski Beat,
Camouflage,
Eric Dolphy,
Johnny Osbourne,
Interpol,
Flamin' Groovies,
Bluetip,
Blancmange,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Grass Roots,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Fortunes,
Eli Mardock,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Nirvana,
Terry Callier,
Vainqueur,
Marcia Griffiths,
Technova,
Electric Prunes,
The Cowsills,
The Birthday Party,
Tres Demented,
Aaron Thompson,
Carl Craig,
Fugazi,
Duran Duran,
Gastr Del Sol,
Brothers Johnson,
Blake Baxter,
FM Einheit,
Mandrill,
Rod Modell,
the Fania All-Stars,
Harmonia,
Youth Brigade,
Talk Talk,
Darondo,
Wire,
Pierre Henry,
Gichy Dan,
Josef K,
World's Most,
Sparks,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Wings, Wings, Wings, Wings.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.