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 Albania and from Bologna.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel to the grunge 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 Fort Wilson Riot. All the underground hits.
All Harry Pussy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Isaac Hayes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Darondo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oblivians,
Ultimate Spinach,
Black Pus,
Danielle Patucci,
Joyce Sims,
Y Pants,
Nation of Ulysses,
Dorothy Ashby,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Electric Prunes,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Terrestrial Tones,
Soft Machine,
The Alarm Clocks,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Von Mondo,
The Litter,
Vladislav Delay,
Ralphi Rosario,
Dead Boys,
Brass Construction,
Zapp,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Lalann,
The Doobie Brothers,
Marvin Gaye,
Barclay James Harvest,
Banda Bassotti,
the Human League,
Jandek,
Joe Smooth,
Moss Icon,
Bob Dylan,
R.M.O.,
L. Decosne,
Suburban Knight,
E-Dancer,
Robert Hood,
Index,
The Doors,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Radiohead,
Johnny Clarke,
Crime,
Bad Manners,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Donny Hathaway,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Flash Fearless,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Sun City Girls,
James White and The Blacks,
The Martian,
June of 44,
Faraquet,
New Age Steppers,
Marine Girls, Marine Girls, Marine Girls, Marine Girls.
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.