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 Mauritius and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Make Up to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Techniques. All the underground hits.
All N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every kango's stein massive record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Letta Mbulu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Seeds,
Sonic Youth,
Camberwell Now,
Wolf Eyes,
Marc Almond,
Bad Manners,
Swell Maps,
Bobby Byrd,
F. McDonald,
Public Image Ltd.,
Flamin' Groovies,
Charles Mingus,
Audionom,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Raincoats,
Mad Mike,
Technova,
the Normal,
Sarah Menescal,
The Alarm Clocks,
Henry Cow,
Warsaw,
Leonard Cohen,
Lungfish,
Gregory Isaacs,
Funkadelic,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Pagans,
Panda Bear,
Model 500,
The Gladiators,
Average White Band,
Byron Stingily,
Flipper,
Ohio Players,
Jeff Lynne,
Zapp,
The Young Rascals,
Lou Christie,
Unrelated Segments,
Robert Görl,
Scratch Acid,
Quadrant,
The Star Department,
Black Sheep,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Eli Mardock,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Mars,
Andrew Hill,
The Detroit Cobras,
Intrusion,
The Smoke,
The Remains,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sun City Girls,
Barbara Tucker,
Laurel Aitken,
The J.B.'s,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
ABBA,
Newcleus, Newcleus, Newcleus, Newcleus.
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.