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 Kuwait 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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Iggy Pop to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Rakim. All the underground hits.
All Gang Gang Dance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hasil Adkins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tommy Roe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
KRS-One,
Qualms,
Moby Grape,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Knickerbockers,
Hot Snakes,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
the Slits,
Donald Byrd,
John Foxx,
Lyres,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Franke,
Sam Rivers,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
the Soft Cell,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Durutti Column,
the Sonics,
Lou Christie,
Glenn Branca,
Nik Kershaw,
Dennis Brown,
Sixth Finger,
Chrome,
Pharoah Sanders,
Public Image Ltd.,
Black Flag,
Porter Ricks,
Spandau Ballet,
Lower 48,
ABC,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Soft Cell,
Brand Nubian,
Pylon,
Fela Kuti,
Mantronix,
Sugar Minott,
David Axelrod,
China Crisis,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Wake,
Zapp,
Excepter,
Jerry's Kids,
Peter and Kerry,
Bang On A Can,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Blake Baxter,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Todd Rundgren,
Simply Red,
New Order,
Morten Harket,
Dual Sessions,
The Cowsills,
Altered Images,
Fear,
Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson.
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.