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 Moldova and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Funky Four + One to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Minnie Riperton. All the underground hits.
All Sugar Minott tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eddi Front 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Normal record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Make Up,
Brick,
Pylon,
Cymande,
Darondo,
F. McDonald,
ABC,
Nik Kershaw,
Maurizio,
Amazonics,
Freddie Wadling,
DJ Style,
Dave Gahan,
L. Decosne,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Black Dice,
Aaron Thompson,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Chris & Cosey,
Section 25,
Flipper,
Cal Tjader,
Radio Birdman,
Soft Cell,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sister Nancy,
Fad Gadget,
Magma,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Albert Ayler,
Oneida,
The Victims,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
World's Most,
B.T. Express,
Joe Smooth,
Minor Threat,
the Germs,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Black Pus,
Rod Modell,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
the Slits,
Audionom,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Mojo Men,
Warren Ellis,
Gang Green,
Saccharine Trust,
The Saints,
The Buckinghams,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Toni Rubio,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
X-102,
Monks,
Lucky Dragons,
Camouflage,
Leonard Cohen,
The Human League, The Human League, The Human League, The Human League.
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.