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 Libya and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade to the disco 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 Barracudas. All the underground hits.
All The Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Trojans 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cosmic Jokers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oblivians,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Sam Rivers,
Crispian St. Peters,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
8 Eyed Spy,
Model 500,
Dead Boys,
Idris Muhammad,
Zero Boys,
Tropical Tobacco,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Roxette,
K-Klass,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Count Five,
Michelle Simonal,
The Moody Blues,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Visage,
Lalo Schifrin,
Scratch Acid,
Gong,
Agent Orange,
Harpers Bizarre,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Throbbing Gristle,
Young Marble Giants,
Little Man,
Spandau Ballet,
The Busters,
Clear Light,
Eric B and Rakim,
Ituana,
June of 44,
The Electric Prunes,
Mary Jane Girls,
New Order,
One Last Wish,
Banda Bassotti,
U.S. Maple,
The Smiths,
X-102,
Althea and Donna,
Monolake,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Pere Ubu,
Cybotron,
Unwound,
Isaac Hayes,
The Grass Roots,
Howard Jones,
Rotary Connection,
Henry Cow,
The Fugs,
Icehouse,
Khruangbin,
Drive Like Jehu,
Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran.
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.