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 Nepal and from Mumbai.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
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 Roger Hodgson to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Ice-T. All the underground hits.
All Strawberry Alarm Clock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scan 7 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 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 Malaria! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lonnie Liston Smith,
James White and The Blacks,
Alice Coltrane,
The Standells,
The Kinks,
The J.B.'s,
Sam Rivers,
Pierre Henry,
Darondo,
Mo-Dettes,
Masters at Work,
Eurythmics,
Carl Craig,
Technova,
Dark Day,
Toni Rubio,
Scratch Acid,
Sun Ra,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Arab on Radar,
Television Personalities,
Icehouse,
Fatback Band,
The Pretty Things,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
John Holt,
the Swans,
The Blues Magoos,
Infiniti,
Groovy Waters,
Joe Finger,
Average White Band,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Angry Samoans,
The Real Kids,
The Grass Roots,
the Normal,
MDC,
The American Breed,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Howard Jones,
Al Stewart,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Sisters of Mercy,
X-101,
The Knickerbockers,
Little Man,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Rufus Thomas,
Boredoms,
Byron Stingily,
The Selecter,
Gabor Szabo,
kango's stein massive,
Cluster,
The Evens,
Bauhaus,
Sex Pistols,
Morten Harket,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
EPMD,
Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May.
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.