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 Equatorial Guinea and from Jakarta.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Ponytail to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Kings Of Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All The Move tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispian St. Peters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gastr Del Sol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Victims,
Gil Scott Heron,
Black Sheep,
the Bar-Kays,
Junior Murvin,
the Association,
The Fire Engines,
Bauhaus,
The Gap Band,
The Monochrome Set,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Barry Ungar,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Q and Not U,
La Düsseldorf,
the Germs,
The Fortunes,
The Motions,
Frankie Knuckles,
Liliput,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Maurizio,
James White and The Blacks,
Pere Ubu,
The Black Dice,
Letta Mbulu,
Black Bananas,
Blake Baxter,
Rekid,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Sound Behaviour,
Thompson Twins,
Dead Boys,
Drive Like Jehu,
Shoche,
Althea and Donna,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Kerri Chandler,
Scratch Acid,
Connie Case,
Man Parrish,
The Modern Lovers,
Zero Boys,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Loose Ends,
Youth Brigade,
the Slits,
Animal Collective,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sonic Youth,
Moss Icon,
Intrusion,
The Vogues,
Siglo XX,
Qualms,
The Cure,
Faust,
cv313,
Grey Daturas,
Blossom Toes,
Lee Hazlewood,
Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound.
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.