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 Djibouti and from Woodstock.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 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 the Bar-Kays to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane. All the underground hits.
All The United States of America tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fugazi record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glambeats Corp.,
The Seeds,
Khruangbin,
The Index,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Boogie Down Productions,
Supertramp,
Amon Düül II,
Television,
The Mojo Men,
Lucky Dragons,
Todd Rundgren,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Babytalk,
Gerry Rafferty,
Jawbox,
MC5,
AZ,
The Busters,
The Invisible,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Gang of Four,
Brass Construction,
Kaleidoscope,
Lee Hazlewood,
Michelle Simonal,
The Real Kids,
Kayak,
The Evens,
Mr. Review,
Deadbeat,
DNA,
Jesper Dahlback,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Rekid,
Steve Hackett,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Roxette,
Swans,
Howard Jones,
Crash Course in Science,
Tubeway Army,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Agent Orange,
Terry Callier,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
These Immortal Souls,
Scratch Acid,
Matthew Bourne,
Swell Maps,
Suburban Knight,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Electric Prunes,
This Heat,
Black Moon,
Eric Copeland,
Flipper,
Lakeside,
The Knickerbockers,
Bauhaus,
48th St. Collective,
Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans.
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.