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 Argentina and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Rhythm & Sound to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Dark Day. All the underground hits.
All Aloha Tigers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Khruangbin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James Chance & The Contortions record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deadbeat,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Yaz,
Jerry's Kids,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Chrome,
Rod Modell,
Parry Music,
L. Decosne,
The Gories,
Theoretical Girls,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Blackbyrds,
Das Ding,
F. McDonald,
Spoonie Gee,
The Invisible,
Second Layer,
Angry Samoans,
Albert Ayler,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Amon Düül II,
These Immortal Souls,
Ossler,
Public Image Ltd.,
June of 44,
Byron Stingily,
Aswad,
Mantronix,
Absolute Body Control,
Desert Stars,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Zeros,
The Buckinghams,
Scrapy,
ABBA,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Happenings,
Tom Boy,
The Residents,
Aural Exciters,
Suicide,
Sam Rivers,
The Monks,
Warsaw,
Urselle,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Rakim,
The Pop Group,
Scion,
Kerrie Biddell,
Sex Pistols,
Fad Gadget,
MC5,
FM Einheit,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths.
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.