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 Bhutan and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 The Moleskins to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Robert Wyatt. All the underground hits.
All The Misunderstood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every China Crisis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harry Pussy,
Bobby Byrd,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Lou Reed,
X-101,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Boredoms,
Jacques Brel,
Wolf Eyes,
Theoretical Girls,
The Smoke,
Alice Coltrane,
Laurel Aitken,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Golliwogs,
Gang Gang Dance,
Zapp,
Fad Gadget,
Soft Cell,
Silicon Teens,
Stockholm Monsters,
Eve St. Jones,
Duran Duran,
Curtis Mayfield,
Morten Harket,
The Mummies,
Alison Limerick,
Black Pus,
Model 500,
The Busters,
Crash Course in Science,
The Slackers,
Derrick May,
MC5,
Kurtis Blow,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
a-ha,
Accadde A,
Marc Almond,
Howard Jones,
James White and The Blacks,
Danielle Patucci,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Cowsills,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Fuzztones,
Frankie Knuckles,
Lebanon Hanover,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Tom Boy,
Little Man,
DNA,
Intrusion,
Cybotron,
Public Image Ltd.,
Interpol,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin.
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.