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 Pakistan and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 clarinet 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 Sad Lovers and Giants to the techno 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 A Flock of Seagulls. All the underground hits.
All Boz Scaggs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every FM Einheit 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Starr record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Stooges,
Panda Bear,
Quantec,
Theoretical Girls,
Matthew Halsall,
The Doobie Brothers,
Drexciya,
Grauzone,
Accadde A,
Joe Smooth,
Sonic Youth,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lyres,
U.S. Maple,
Terry Callier,
Hardrive,
Eden Ahbez,
Half Japanese,
Fad Gadget,
John Lydon,
Crispy Ambulance,
Josef K,
Bobby Sherman,
Scratch Acid,
The Seeds,
Procol Harum,
Quadrant,
Crash Course in Science,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Moby Grape,
Niagra,
the Germs,
Kerri Chandler,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Moss Icon,
Sight & Sound,
Mad Mike,
Joensuu 1685,
Mission of Burma,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Lou Christie,
Brothers Johnson,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Bizarre Inc.,
Robert Wyatt,
Aloha Tigers,
Dead Boys,
Jacob Miller,
Eve St. Jones,
Charles Mingus,
The Invisible,
Pere Ubu,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Little Man,
The Remains,
David McCallum,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
John Foxx,
Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton.
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.