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 Kazakhstan and from London.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
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 The Cure to the grime 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 Whodini. All the underground hits.
All Animal Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minutemen 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neu! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Trumans Water,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Faust,
Pussy Galore,
Judy Mowatt,
Marmalade,
Howard Jones,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Grass Roots,
Stockholm Monsters,
Lebanon Hanover,
Supertramp,
Das Ding,
Chrome,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Quando Quango,
June Days,
Animal Collective,
Eric Copeland,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Aaron Thompson,
The Buckinghams,
DNA,
Roy Ayers,
Nik Kershaw,
Duran Duran,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Skaos,
Lucky Dragons,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Sonics,
The Skatalites,
The Dead C,
Yaz,
Amon Düül II,
The Remains,
John Foxx,
Ultravox,
Frankie Knuckles,
Lalann,
Isaac Hayes,
Bush Tetras,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Idris Muhammad,
The Flesh Eaters,
Royal Trux,
The United States of America,
Country Joe & The Fish,
X-101,
Pantaleimon,
New York Dolls,
Marvin Gaye,
Fugazi,
Simply Red,
Urselle,
Sun City Girls,
Massinfluence,
Von Mondo,
Reuben Wilson,
Steve Hackett,
This Heat, This Heat, This Heat, This Heat.
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.