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 Grenada and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Roy Ayers Ubiquity to the grime 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 Peter & Gordon. All the underground hits.
All N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Infiniti 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Animal Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ludus,
Skriet,
Khruangbin,
Absolute Body Control,
Ultra Naté,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
PIL,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Bad Manners,
Idris Muhammad,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Barracudas,
Judy Mowatt,
KRS-One,
Electric Prunes,
Brothers Johnson,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Royal Trux,
Brick,
Section 25,
Minny Pops,
Chris Corsano,
The Gories,
Minor Threat,
Bush Tetras,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Neu!,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Flesh Eaters,
Black Pus,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Doors,
Suburban Knight,
DNA,
Parry Music,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Sarah Menescal,
Marmalade,
Joy Division,
Yazoo,
Fluxion,
Fat Boys,
Bob Dylan,
Kerrie Biddell,
Mission of Burma,
Amazonics,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Ituana,
Second Layer,
Harmonia,
Drexciya,
The Black Dice,
Malaria!,
The Cure,
Goldenarms,
Black Flag,
Sexual Harrassment,
Tubeway Army,
The Five Americans,
Q and Not U,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Grandmaster Flash,
Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader.
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.