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 Bhutan and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Salvador.
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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Knickerbockers to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Glambeats Corp.. All the underground hits.
All Barclay James Harvest tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Be Bop Deluxe 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 guitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Unrelated Segments record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Excepter,
Graham Central Station,
Rites of Spring,
Drive Like Jehu,
Quadrant,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Make Up,
The Modern Lovers,
Essential Logic,
Surgeon,
Sight & Sound,
Laurel Aitken,
Wasted Youth,
Oblivians,
Nils Olav,
Idris Muhammad,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Dave Clark Five,
John Holt,
Eddi Front,
Adolescents,
Crispian St. Peters,
Nico,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Swell Maps,
Theoretical Girls,
Johnny Clarke,
Throbbing Gristle,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Khruangbin,
Robert Wyatt,
The American Breed,
the Swans,
Rapeman,
Bobby Byrd,
L. Decosne,
Stetsasonic,
Don Cherry,
Skarface,
The Dead C,
the Association,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Monolake,
Royal Trux,
Neu!,
Howard Jones,
Anakelly,
Sound Behaviour,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Stockholm Monsters,
the Normal,
Roxette,
Terry Callier,
Underground Resistance,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Ken Boothe,
Ludus,
Guru Guru,
Gang Green,
Tres Demented,
Ice-T,
Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II.
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.