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 Venezuela and from Paris.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Sound to the rock 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 Neil Young & Crazy Horse. All the underground hits.
All John Coltrane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ice-T record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Excepter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Sister Nancy,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Techniques,
Bobby Womack,
T.S.O.L.,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Bronski Beat,
Harry Pussy,
June Days,
EPMD,
Negative Approach,
Black Flag,
Tubeway Army,
The Shadows of Knight,
Magazine,
The Wake,
Lyres,
Black Moon,
Cybotron,
Mission of Burma,
Blake Baxter,
Marshall Jefferson,
Skriet,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
X-Ray Spex,
China Crisis,
Bobby Sherman,
Howard Jones,
The Leaves,
Shuggie Otis,
Man Parrish,
The Names,
Johnny Clarke,
Easy Going,
Fatback Band,
The Human League,
Sällskapet,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
New Order,
Junior Murvin,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Brass Construction,
Juan Atkins,
Todd Rundgren,
Glambeats Corp.,
Fear,
Angry Samoans,
Unrelated Segments,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Cramps,
Inner City,
Swell Maps,
Silicon Teens,
Sound Behaviour,
Parry Music,
E-Dancer,
The Dead C,
The Index,
Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee.
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.