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 United Kingdom and from Winnipeg.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Davy DMX to the electroclash 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 Black Sheep. All the underground hits.
All The Gun Club tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo 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 spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Heavy D & The Boyz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang On A Can,
Royal Trux,
Gabor Szabo,
Magma,
The Victims,
Technova,
Little Man,
Hardrive,
Electric Prunes,
John Coltrane,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Moody Blues,
Skriet,
10cc,
Ponytail,
Television,
Rufus Thomas,
Con Funk Shun,
Nik Kershaw,
Organ,
JFA,
8 Eyed Spy,
Funky Four + One,
The Saints,
Wolf Eyes,
Jacob Miller,
New Order,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Barclay James Harvest,
Dave Gahan,
Lou Christie,
Agent Orange,
Toni Rubio,
Interpol,
Skaos,
Harpers Bizarre,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Malaria!,
Don Cherry,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Toasters,
Cybotron,
The Fugs,
Minutemen,
Basic Channel,
Mantronix,
Fear,
Adolescents,
Ken Boothe,
Stereo Dub,
Connie Case,
Model 500,
The Remains,
Infiniti,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Offenders,
Rites of Spring,
T. Rex,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Bobbi Humphrey,
the Swans, the Swans, the Swans, the Swans.
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.