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 Morocco and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 guitar 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 Piero Umiliani to the funk 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 Idris Muhammad. All the underground hits.
All Aswad tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skriet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nick Fraelich record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Moon,
The Tremeloes,
T.S.O.L.,
Rakim,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Althea and Donna,
Barry Ungar,
Swans,
Warsaw,
Lalo Schifrin,
Eddi Front,
Traffic Nightmare,
Sarah Menescal,
Connie Case,
Todd Rundgren,
Porter Ricks,
Gang Green,
Shuggie Otis,
Stiv Bators,
The Monks,
Nils Olav,
Brass Construction,
Freddie Wadling,
Circle Jerks,
The Index,
The Dead C,
Blancmange,
Spoonie Gee,
Basic Channel,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Bang On A Can,
Reuben Wilson,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Adolescents,
Joy Division,
Zero Boys,
The Invisible,
Scan 7,
Mo-Dettes,
The Grass Roots,
Roger Hodgson,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Erasure,
Crime,
Dual Sessions,
Dave Gahan,
Magma,
Johnny Clarke,
Mad Mike,
Marvin Gaye,
Max Romeo,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Golliwogs,
The Motions,
The Slits,
Minnie Riperton,
The Cure,
Parry Music,
The Slackers,
Deepchord,
Inner City, Inner City, Inner City, Inner City.
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.