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 Liechtenstein and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Jakarta.
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 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 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 Khruangbin to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Black Flag. All the underground hits.
All Pussy Galore tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Con Funk Shun 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dorothy Ashby,
UT,
The Sonics,
Jacques Brel,
The Modern Lovers,
Harmonia,
Patti Smith,
The Mummies,
Popol Vuh,
Loose Ends,
New York Dolls,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Slits,
Los Fastidios,
John Lydon,
Malaria!,
Organ,
Yusef Lateef,
Derrick May,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Blossom Toes,
Scott Walker,
Duran Duran,
Lungfish,
Dark Day,
Dual Sessions,
Prince Buster,
Shoche,
Funky Four + One,
Erasure,
Cal Tjader,
Alison Limerick,
The Velvet Underground,
Barclay James Harvest,
Cymande,
Neu!,
Thompson Twins,
Mark Hollis,
Wolf Eyes,
Eli Mardock,
Young Marble Giants,
KRS-One,
Chris & Cosey,
Swans,
The Slackers,
Grandmaster Flash,
AZ,
The Victims,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Electric Prunes,
Eddi Front,
Bush Tetras,
Jimmy McGriff,
Chrome,
The Tremeloes,
Television Personalities,
Gerry Rafferty,
Soul II Soul,
Unrelated Segments,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Crash Course in Science,
Hot Snakes,
Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson.
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.