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 Philippines and from Tehran.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Brick to the jazz 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 Das Ding. All the underground hits.
All Boogie Down Productions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Eating Sloth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minutemen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Standells,
Lucky Dragons,
Cecil Taylor,
Warren Ellis,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
New York Dolls,
Interpol,
Carl Craig,
Faust,
Tommy Roe,
Joey Negro,
Oblivians,
Pere Ubu,
The Shadows of Knight,
Blake Baxter,
Second Layer,
The Electric Prunes,
The Velvet Underground,
kango's stein massive,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Fall,
Roxette,
Gang Gang Dance,
Inner City,
Saccharine Trust,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Suicide,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Erasure,
Boz Scaggs,
Bad Manners,
Goldenarms,
Dennis Brown,
Shoche,
The Trojans,
Sex Pistols,
Neil Young,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Moody Blues,
the Fania All-Stars,
Rufus Thomas,
The Sound,
Girls At Our Best!,
Brick,
T. Rex,
Pulsallama,
Derrick Morgan,
Duran Duran,
The Beau Brummels,
Section 25,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Mandrill,
The Evens,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Alison Limerick,
Nation of Ulysses,
John Foxx,
Crash Course in Science,
Derrick May,
Urselle,
Robert Görl,
Whodini,
Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio.
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.