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 Mauritania 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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Pantytec to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Doors. All the underground hits.
All Bush Tetras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Delon & Dalcan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 rhodes and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barbara Tucker record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faust,
Brothers Johnson,
Skarface,
The Dirtbombs,
Crash Course in Science,
The Fuzztones,
Arcadia,
Can,
Duran Duran,
Connie Case,
Girls At Our Best!,
Ultravox,
The Seeds,
The Residents,
Dual Sessions,
X-Ray Spex,
Bush Tetras,
Peter and Kerry,
Black Pus,
Sex Pistols,
Lou Christie,
EPMD,
Alton Ellis,
Juan Atkins,
Andrew Hill,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Young Marble Giants,
Stockholm Monsters,
Los Fastidios,
The Pretty Things,
Eddi Front,
Donald Byrd,
Circle Jerks,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Standells,
The Cowsills,
The Gladiators,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Music Machine,
Blancmange,
Dark Day,
Porter Ricks,
The Sound,
The New Christs,
The Real Kids,
New York Dolls,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Amon Düül,
Marine Girls,
Surgeon,
Chrome,
Quando Quango,
Archie Shepp,
Roger Hodgson,
Drive Like Jehu,
Graham Central Station,
Interpol,
The Smoke,
Hashim,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Drexciya,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Brand Nubian,
Flipper, Flipper, Flipper, Flipper.
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.