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 Barbados and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Jeff Mills to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids. All the underground hits.
All Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Metal Thangz record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a EPMD 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?
Sun Ra,
The Martian,
Gang Gang Dance,
Black Bananas,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Searchers,
Fluxion,
The Human League,
Yusef Lateef,
Arcadia,
Radiopuhelimet,
CMW,
Jesper Dahlback,
Stiv Bators,
Radiohead,
Todd Terry,
John Cale,
X-Ray Spex,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Donald Byrd,
The Real Kids,
Crispian St. Peters,
K-Klass,
The Velvet Underground,
Sandy B,
The Moleskins,
Easy Going,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Knickerbockers,
Ralphi Rosario,
Lungfish,
Sparks,
the Soft Cell,
Fugazi,
Mr. Review,
The Electric Prunes,
Cybotron,
Soft Cell,
AZ,
Delta 5,
Hot Snakes,
Avey Tare,
PIL,
The Blackbyrds,
Barry Ungar,
Gabor Szabo,
The Slits,
Bill Near,
Joey Negro,
The Young Rascals,
Altered Images,
Blake Baxter,
Robert Hood,
David McCallum,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Bauhaus,
Ohio Players,
Albert Ayler,
Pagans,
Sarah Menescal,
The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings.
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.