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 Turkey and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 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 Cybotron to the dance 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 Gang of Four. All the underground hits.
All Laurel Aitken tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angels of Light & Akron/Family 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gastr Del Sol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Tubeway Army,
The Sonics,
Circle Jerks,
The Music Machine,
the Sonics,
Spoonie Gee,
Deepchord,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Ice-T,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Remains,
Warsaw,
Animal Collective,
E-Dancer,
The Tremeloes,
The Blues Magoos,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Depeche Mode,
The Litter,
Spandau Ballet,
Lebanon Hanover,
Basic Channel,
Howard Jones,
Zapp,
Ken Boothe,
Stetsasonic,
Tommy Roe,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Arcadia,
Lower 48,
Harry Pussy,
Pantytec,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
the Slits,
Icehouse,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Associates,
Audionom,
Black Flag,
Moss Icon,
Todd Rundgren,
John Lydon,
Joensuu 1685,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Ronnie Foster,
Kevin Saunderson,
Marmalade,
Suburban Knight,
Clear Light,
The Shadows of Knight,
Joe Smooth,
Babytalk,
The Move,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Panda Bear,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Smiths,
Jimmy McGriff,
Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo.
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.