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 Mauritius and from Philadelphia.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Severed Heads to the grunge 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 Byron Stingily. All the underground hits.
All Public Enemy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kango’s Stein Massive 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a China Crisis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T. Rex,
Sister Nancy,
Unwound,
Al Stewart,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
JFA,
Arab on Radar,
The Fire Engines,
Althea and Donna,
Massinfluence,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Aaron Thompson,
Mission of Burma,
Fifty Foot Hose,
New Age Steppers,
Franke,
Wally Richardson,
EPMD,
Piero Umiliani,
Skarface,
MDC,
Marvin Gaye,
Urselle,
Boz Scaggs,
Babytalk,
Buzzcocks,
Gregory Isaacs,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Harpers Bizarre,
Jimmy McGriff,
Rakim,
Fat Boys,
The Seeds,
Drexciya,
Danielle Patucci,
The Move,
Joensuu 1685,
Banda Bassotti,
The J.B.'s,
Sixth Finger,
Lebanon Hanover,
Don Cherry,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Barrington Levy,
F. McDonald,
Pole,
The Red Krayola,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Gang of Four,
Adolescents,
The Grass Roots,
Monolake,
Agitation Free,
June of 44,
Funky Four + One,
Eurythmics,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Birthday Party,
John Holt,
Joe Smooth,
Tim Buckley,
Byron Stingily,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Yaz,
John Cale, John Cale, John Cale, John Cale.
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.