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 Norway 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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Flesh Eaters to the disco 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 Louis and Bebe Barron. All the underground hits.
All La Düsseldorf tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Zeros record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terry Callier record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thompson Twins,
The Wake,
The Martian,
Inner City,
Faraquet,
The Seeds,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Au Pairs,
Steve Hackett,
Ralphi Rosario,
JFA,
Robert Hood,
Man Eating Sloth,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Kool Moe Dee,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Dead C,
Roger Hodgson,
These Immortal Souls,
Pylon,
Television,
Sarah Menescal,
Crime,
Connie Case,
Peter & Gordon,
Blossom Toes,
Bobby Sherman,
Robert Wyatt,
DNA,
Flamin' Groovies,
Kurtis Blow,
Vainqueur,
Yaz,
Funky Four + One,
Soul II Soul,
Josef K,
The Dirtbombs,
Blake Baxter,
John Cale,
Lou Reed,
Bobby Womack,
The Human League,
Arab on Radar,
Spoonie Gee,
MC5,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Monks,
The Flesh Eaters,
Khruangbin,
Jandek,
Kerri Chandler,
The Neon Judgement,
Skaos,
T. Rex,
June of 44,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Toni Rubio,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Dave Clark Five,
Con Funk Shun,
Magma,
Kayak, Kayak, Kayak, Kayak.
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.