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 Senegal and from Tehran.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Cecil Taylor to the electroclash 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 Sarah Menescal. All the underground hits.
All The Martian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Goldenarms 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tears for Fears record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Surgeon,
Cybotron,
Rosa Yemen,
La Düsseldorf,
Trumans Water,
The Mojo Men,
Roy Ayers,
Alison Limerick,
Urselle,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Khruangbin,
The Dead C,
The Zeros,
Nation of Ulysses,
Pierre Henry,
Aural Exciters,
The Detroit Cobras,
Ponytail,
London Community Gospel Choir,
a-ha,
Davy DMX,
Derrick Morgan,
Ice-T,
Q and Not U,
Dead Boys,
Bobby Womack,
Sixth Finger,
The Fire Engines,
Morten Harket,
Kerrie Biddell,
Deadbeat,
The Gories,
Country Teasers,
kango's stein massive,
The New Christs,
June Days,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Slick Rick,
Don Cherry,
The Shadows of Knight,
Boredoms,
Josef K,
Gabor Szabo,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Prince Buster,
Con Funk Shun,
Rod Modell,
Dark Day,
The Doors,
Clear Light,
Y Pants,
Minor Threat,
Joy Division,
Sister Nancy,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Scion,
Rites of Spring,
Vainqueur,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Dorothy Ashby,
Von Mondo,
Make Up, Make Up, Make Up, Make Up.
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.