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 El Salvador and from Houston.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Toronto.
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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Sun City Girls to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Neon Judgement. All the underground hits.
All Jeff Lynne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deadbeat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 spring reverb and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sister Nancy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Desert Stars,
Suicide,
The Last Poets,
Second Layer,
Y Pants,
Ossler,
Ralphi Rosario,
Japan,
John Holt,
Toni Rubio,
Dave Gahan,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Tommy Roe,
Visage,
Nation of Ulysses,
Tom Boy,
Alison Limerick,
Blossom Toes,
Kas Product,
Index,
Slave,
Organ,
Chris Corsano,
World's Most,
Neu!,
Delta 5,
Panda Bear,
Essential Logic,
Pere Ubu,
Franke,
Rod Modell,
Sexual Harrassment,
Mary Jane Girls,
Flipper,
LL Cool J,
Khruangbin,
Lou Christie,
The Offenders,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Leonard Cohen,
Beasts of Bourbon,
These Immortal Souls,
Underground Resistance,
Radiopuhelimet,
Qualms,
Sight & Sound,
Sugar Minott,
Lightning Bolt,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Marcia Griffiths,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Fire Engines,
Outsiders,
Juan Atkins,
Porter Ricks,
In Retrospect,
Wasted Youth,
Yaz,
Albert Ayler,
Dark Day,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance.
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.