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 Turkmenistan and from Stockholm.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Fugazi to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 One Last Wish. All the underground hits.
All The Vogues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oneida 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 '70s.
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 Nik Kershaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultra Naté,
The Selecter,
The Saints,
T.S.O.L.,
Marmalade,
Simply Red,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Con Funk Shun,
Moss Icon,
Davy DMX,
Bobby Byrd,
Cecil Taylor,
Maurizio,
Malaria!,
Wire,
Boredoms,
Wally Richardson,
Soulsonic Force,
Duran Duran,
Lou Reed,
EPMD,
Girls At Our Best!,
Zero Boys,
Magma,
Thompson Twins,
Technova,
The Human League,
the Soft Cell,
The Count Five,
Livin' Joy,
Skaos,
Man Parrish,
Danielle Patucci,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Jerry's Kids,
Nirvana,
Godley & Creme,
Michelle Simonal,
JFA,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Deepchord,
The Barracudas,
Eurythmics,
Sugar Minott,
Los Fastidios,
Roger Hodgson,
Porter Ricks,
Radio Birdman,
Make Up,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Mr. Review,
Glenn Branca,
Terrestrial Tones,
Jesper Dahlback,
Kaleidoscope,
The Black Dice,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Saccharine Trust,
Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers.
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.