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 Taiwan and from Seoul.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band to the electroclash 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 Lou Christie. All the underground hits.
All Brothers Johnson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glenn Branca 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gary Puckett & The Union Gap record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Electric Prunes,
The Selecter,
Tropical Tobacco,
Judy Mowatt,
The Blues Magoos,
Chris Corsano,
Donny Hathaway,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Dawn Penn,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Mojo Men,
The Human League,
The Martian,
Second Layer,
Todd Rundgren,
The Neon Judgement,
The Fuzztones,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Television Personalities,
Dorothy Ashby,
Aswad,
The Slits,
Reagan Youth,
Babytalk,
Alice Coltrane,
Brass Construction,
Parry Music,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Fall,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Aural Exciters,
Frankie Knuckles,
Minnie Riperton,
Blake Baxter,
Skarface,
Soft Machine,
Symarip,
Chrome,
The Five Americans,
Visage,
Robert Wyatt,
Sun Ra,
CMW,
John Foxx,
Vladislav Delay,
Rites of Spring,
Jacob Miller,
Angry Samoans,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Pagans,
FM Einheit,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Wire,
Royal Trux,
The Red Krayola,
DJ Style,
The Evens,
Buzzcocks,
Vainqueur,
Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson.
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.