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 Paraguay and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Winnipeg.
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 güiro 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 James White and The Blacks to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Zapp. All the underground hits.
All Cal Tjader tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every These Immortal Souls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 mellotron and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Outsiders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
F. McDonald,
R.M.O.,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
The Slits,
The Star Department,
The Moody Blues,
Jawbox,
Terry Callier,
Grandmaster Flash,
Davy DMX,
The Count Five,
Vladislav Delay,
Scion,
Parry Music,
Bob Dylan,
Tim Buckley,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Angels of Light,
The Selecter,
Pole,
The Knickerbockers,
The Birthday Party,
Ohio Players,
The Mojo Men,
L. Decosne,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Soulsonic Force,
Ponytail,
Eddi Front,
Siglo XX,
Banda Bassotti,
The Dead C,
ABC,
Soft Cell,
Surgeon,
Skriet,
Excepter,
Talk Talk,
Flamin' Groovies,
John Holt,
Hasil Adkins,
Marc Almond,
Sight & Sound,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Fire Engines,
Robert Görl,
Freddie Wadling,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
T.S.O.L.,
The Smiths,
a-ha,
Royal Trux,
Blossom Toes,
Reuben Wilson,
Panda Bear,
Bootsy Collins,
Monks,
Stereo Dub,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy.
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.