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 New Zealand and from Spokane.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
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 Kango’s Stein Massive to the disco 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 Clear Light. All the underground hits.
All Arcadia tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amazonics record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 a marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Graham Central Station record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
FM Einheit,
Aswad,
8 Eyed Spy,
DNA,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Curtis Mayfield,
Agent Orange,
Circle Jerks,
Kerri Chandler,
The Dead C,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Toasters,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Stereo Dub,
Minutemen,
The Human League,
Eric B and Rakim,
Silicon Teens,
Roxy Music,
Sister Nancy,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Birthday Party,
a-ha,
Mark Hollis,
Soft Machine,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Jimmy McGriff,
Crispy Ambulance,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Interpol,
These Immortal Souls,
DJ Sneak,
Dennis Brown,
the Germs,
Camouflage,
U.S. Maple,
Gabor Szabo,
The Litter,
Technova,
Spandau Ballet,
Babytalk,
Darondo,
In Retrospect,
The Durutti Column,
The Dirtbombs,
Pantaleimon,
David Axelrod,
Joe Smooth,
Sugar Minott,
The Zeros,
Big Daddy Kane,
Lungfish,
The Red Krayola,
Surgeon,
Derrick Morgan,
Visage,
Sun City Girls,
The Victims,
Echospace,
Andrew Hill,
A Certain Ratio,
June Days,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow.
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.