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 Kyrgyzstan and from Taipei.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the organ 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 Howard Jones to the grunge 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 DJ Style. All the underground hits.
All Franke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Young Rascals record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stiv Bators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rapeman,
Bobby Sherman,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Hot Snakes,
Y Pants,
Alphaville,
Joey Negro,
The Gap Band,
H. Thieme,
The Associates,
Tom Boy,
Kayak,
The Dead C,
The Evens,
The Index,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Jandek,
The Gladiators,
Bobby Byrd,
Easy Going,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Mummies,
Unwound,
Joyce Sims,
Johnny Clarke,
Country Teasers,
Con Funk Shun,
Black Pus,
Gang Starr,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Minnie Riperton,
Jeru the Damaja,
Chrome,
Spoonie Gee,
Porter Ricks,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Deepchord,
Scott Walker,
Man Parrish,
Boogie Down Productions,
Urselle,
Index,
James White and The Blacks,
Fat Boys,
The Monks,
Connie Case,
John Cale,
Byron Stingily,
Joy Division,
The Angels of Light,
Siglo XX,
Vladislav Delay,
Avey Tare,
Crooked Eye,
Marshall Jefferson,
Radiohead,
Cheater Slicks,
Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring.
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.