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 Nicaragua and from Portland.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 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 The Fuzztones to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel. All the underground hits.
All Marine Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every R.M.O. 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 güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Popol Vuh record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wolf Eyes,
Soft Machine,
Prince Buster,
Supertramp,
Avey Tare,
The Moody Blues,
Vainqueur,
Jimmy McGriff,
James White and The Blacks,
Isaac Hayes,
The Martian,
Moebius,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Rosa Yemen,
Au Pairs,
Liliput,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Bobby Byrd,
Goldenarms,
Thompson Twins,
Model 500,
ABC,
Barbara Tucker,
Jeff Lynne,
F. McDonald,
The Doobie Brothers,
Albert Ayler,
Laurel Aitken,
Icehouse,
Mission of Burma,
Duran Duran,
Theoretical Girls,
Trumans Water,
Roy Ayers,
Black Sheep,
Eric Dolphy,
Lou Reed,
Crispian St. Peters,
Sound Behaviour,
The Toasters,
Electric Prunes,
Agent Orange,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Grandmaster Flash,
Colin Newman,
Kevin Saunderson,
Byron Stingily,
Curtis Mayfield,
Sight & Sound,
Idris Muhammad,
Kerri Chandler,
Steve Hackett,
The Mojo Men,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Ken Boothe,
Country Teasers,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Radio Birdman,
Henry Cow,
48th St. Collective,
Erykah Badu,
Zapp, Zapp, Zapp, Zapp.
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.