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 Australia and from Manchester.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Barrington Levy to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Minnie Riperton. All the underground hits.
All Warren Ellis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Erykah Badu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skarface record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crime,
ABC,
The American Breed,
Jandek,
Reagan Youth,
Joy Division,
Sight & Sound,
Rosa Yemen,
Eve St. Jones,
Mary Jane Girls,
Boogie Down Productions,
Ultravox,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
One Last Wish,
Mantronix,
Lightning Bolt,
Camberwell Now,
The Neon Judgement,
Johnny Osbourne,
Siglo XX,
Inner City,
Hasil Adkins,
X-Ray Spex,
Saccharine Trust,
Depeche Mode,
The Black Dice,
Tubeway Army,
Country Teasers,
Derrick Morgan,
Traffic Nightmare,
Ralphi Rosario,
Marc Almond,
Barbara Tucker,
Japan,
Vainqueur,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Cowsills,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Max Romeo,
The Divine Comedy,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Malaria!,
The Smoke,
Severed Heads,
Frankie Knuckles,
Andrew Hill,
K-Klass,
Banda Bassotti,
Steve Hackett,
The Count Five,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Bobby Sherman,
Grey Daturas,
Ituana,
Bob Dylan,
Terry Callier,
T.S.O.L.,
The Mummies,
Urselle,
Tommy Roe,
The Red Krayola,
Clear Light, Clear Light, Clear Light, Clear Light.
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.