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 Yemen and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Gerry Rafferty to the grunge 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 Lou Reed. All the underground hits.
All Peter and Kerry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kool Moe Dee record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Bar-Kays record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Certain Ratio,
Jerry's Kids,
Sister Nancy,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Mr. Review,
CMW,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Grey Daturas,
Sarah Menescal,
Crooked Eye,
The Leaves,
Japan,
The Durutti Column,
Echospace,
The Trojans,
The Toasters,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Prince Buster,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Pretty Things,
Lungfish,
Scientists,
The Electric Prunes,
Soft Machine,
Public Enemy,
Radiohead,
Man Eating Sloth,
Erykah Badu,
the Normal,
The Names,
The Red Krayola,
The Fire Engines,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Martian,
Pet Shop Boys,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Young Rascals,
Howard Jones,
Jeru the Damaja,
Pulsallama,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Tom Boy,
Yazoo,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Beau Brummels,
Peter and Kerry,
Wolf Eyes,
The Mummies,
Marc Almond,
Parry Music,
Sight & Sound,
Colin Newman,
Piero Umiliani,
Man Parrish,
Scratch Acid,
Rotary Connection,
The Gun Club,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Yellowson,
The Cramps,
Cal Tjader,
Josef K, Josef K, Josef K, Josef K.
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.