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 Dominican Republic and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Fifty Foot Hose to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Dennis Brown. All the underground hits.
All Sex Pistols tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Trumans Water record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Moleskins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Angels of Light,
MC5,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Sound Behaviour,
Henry Cow,
Suicide,
The Beau Brummels,
Sixth Finger,
The Residents,
Maleditus Sound,
David McCallum,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Monolake,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Minutemen,
Shuggie Otis,
Sex Pistols,
Nick Fraelich,
Yazoo,
Bush Tetras,
Thompson Twins,
The Techniques,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Lebanon Hanover,
Popol Vuh,
June Days,
Bill Wells,
The Remains,
The Cowsills,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Outsiders,
Bootsy Collins,
Slick Rick,
Agent Orange,
Ten City,
Rapeman,
Sister Nancy,
Ituana,
Excepter,
Sarah Menescal,
Severed Heads,
Arcadia,
The Skatalites,
the Soft Cell,
Eddi Front,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
DNA,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Fuzztones,
Tubeway Army,
The Moleskins,
the Swans,
ABC,
Frankie Knuckles,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
the Association,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The United States of America,
Big Daddy Kane,
Symarip,
Skaos,
Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd.
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.