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 Monaco and from Manila.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Rod Modell to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Star Department. All the underground hits.
All Roxette tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nirvana record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wasted Youth,
Soft Machine,
Terry Callier,
Rod Modell,
Danielle Patucci,
The Doobie Brothers,
Chris & Cosey,
Young Marble Giants,
Johnny Osbourne,
Lou Reed,
The Cramps,
Roger Hodgson,
Symarip,
Tim Buckley,
Whodini,
Spandau Ballet,
Easy Going,
The Kinks,
PIL,
Stetsasonic,
Tom Boy,
MDC,
Ten City,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Cowsills,
Sixth Finger,
The Blues Magoos,
Traffic Nightmare,
Altered Images,
Dawn Penn,
Absolute Body Control,
Barclay James Harvest,
8 Eyed Spy,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Ludus,
Glenn Branca,
Harmonia,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Tremeloes,
Derrick May,
Deakin,
Anakelly,
Sonic Youth,
Arcadia,
The Monks,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Boredoms,
Althea and Donna,
Maurizio,
X-101,
Smog,
Jeff Mills,
Rhythm & Sound,
the Germs,
Television Personalities,
Lalann,
X-102,
The Detroit Cobras,
Technova,
Ohio Players,
Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion.
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.