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 Dominican Republic and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 a-ha to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth. All the underground hits.
All Rites of Spring tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Kinks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barry Ungar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Interpol,
Flipper,
Eve St. Jones,
Zapp,
Half Japanese,
The Skatalites,
The Busters,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Joe Finger,
F. McDonald,
The Names,
The Detroit Cobras,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Happenings,
T.S.O.L.,
Monks,
The American Breed,
Deepchord,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Jawbox,
Amon Düül,
Flamin' Groovies,
Judy Mowatt,
The Dirtbombs,
The Flesh Eaters,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Count Five,
Robert Görl,
Reagan Youth,
Tubeway Army,
The Monochrome Set,
The Birthday Party,
Y Pants,
AZ,
Sixth Finger,
The Victims,
Make Up,
One Last Wish,
Ten City,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Swell Maps,
The Monks,
Suicide,
Kool Moe Dee,
Whodini,
Gang Gang Dance,
Cymande,
Funkadelic,
Aloha Tigers,
Groovy Waters,
the Swans,
The Blackbyrds,
Roger Hodgson,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Blossom Toes,
Rekid,
Minor Threat,
The Beau Brummels,
Junior Murvin,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith.
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.