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 Manchester.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Von Mondo to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Silicon Teens tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Erasure record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Parry Music,
Rites of Spring,
Frankie Knuckles,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Lungfish,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
AZ,
The Wake,
Bobby Womack,
Royal Trux,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Subhumans,
Harpers Bizarre,
Howard Jones,
Aswad,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Inner City,
Albert Ayler,
Sugar Minott,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Laurel Aitken,
David McCallum,
Heaven 17,
Lightning Bolt,
Bush Tetras,
Half Japanese,
Man Eating Sloth,
Thee Headcoats,
Kenny Larkin,
Infiniti,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Rapeman,
Groovy Waters,
Yusef Lateef,
Kurtis Blow,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Wasted Youth,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Kerri Chandler,
Camouflage,
Stockholm Monsters,
Black Moon,
Barbara Tucker,
Interpol,
Livin' Joy,
Sarah Menescal,
Youth Brigade,
Piero Umiliani,
Todd Terry,
The Selecter,
Ultra Naté,
Bobby Sherman,
Davy DMX,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Smiths,
Sight & Sound,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Evens,
Negative Approach, Negative Approach, Negative Approach, Negative Approach.
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.