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 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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 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 Harmonia to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Livin' Joy. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & Metallica tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pussy Galore record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mary Jane Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun Ra,
Crooked Eye,
The Black Dice,
The Five Americans,
Fatback Band,
Connie Case,
Grauzone,
The Barracudas,
Gabor Szabo,
Black Moon,
Faust,
Scan 7,
the Swans,
the Slits,
Scratch Acid,
Khruangbin,
Morten Harket,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Qualms,
Das Ding,
The Fuzztones,
Brothers Johnson,
Man Parrish,
Aural Exciters,
Drexciya,
The Fortunes,
The Velvet Underground,
Japan,
New York Dolls,
The Monks,
Patti Smith,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Gang of Four,
Yazoo,
The Leaves,
Television Personalities,
Andrew Hill,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Howard Jones,
Sam Rivers,
T.S.O.L.,
Au Pairs,
the Fania All-Stars,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Peter and Kerry,
Tubeway Army,
Quantec,
Ludus,
The Buckinghams,
Harry Pussy,
The Associates,
10cc,
Joensuu 1685,
Rapeman,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Section 25,
Warren Ellis,
Derrick May,
D'Angelo,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
K-Klass,
Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims.
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.