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 Mauritania and from Mexico City.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Louis and Bebe Barron to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Marine Girls. All the underground hits.
All The Martian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Buckinghams 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kool Moe Dee record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Godley & Creme,
Zero Boys,
The Gladiators,
Magma,
Bang On A Can,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Throbbing Gristle,
Jerry Gold Smith,
John Lydon,
Spandau Ballet,
Deepchord,
Flash Fearless,
Boredoms,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Brick,
Nirvana,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Erasure,
Kas Product,
U.S. Maple,
Delon & Dalcan,
Sex Pistols,
Pagans,
Symarip,
Porter Ricks,
Brass Construction,
8 Eyed Spy,
Skaos,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Young Rascals,
Brand Nubian,
The Buckinghams,
Shoche,
Monolake,
Gong,
Sparks,
Jacques Brel,
Agitation Free,
John Cale,
Jerry's Kids,
Pantytec,
Tres Demented,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Quando Quango,
Rapeman,
Saccharine Trust,
Ohio Players,
Boogie Down Productions,
Infiniti,
Panda Bear,
Morten Harket,
Ronnie Foster,
Eve St. Jones,
Warsaw,
Wire,
Spoonie Gee,
Marc Almond,
The Moleskins,
Amon Düül,
Camberwell Now,
The Stooges, The Stooges, The Stooges, The Stooges.
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.