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 Paraguay and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
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 JFA to the electroclash 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 Bill Near. All the underground hits.
All Blake Baxter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New Order record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 clarinet and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kango’s Stein Massive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T. Rex,
The Star Department,
Nirvana,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Livin' Joy,
Fat Boys,
Theoretical Girls,
Television Personalities,
The Red Krayola,
Lungfish,
Soft Cell,
Porter Ricks,
Kaleidoscope,
Terrestrial Tones,
Matthew Halsall,
the Normal,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Man Parrish,
Morten Harket,
Franke,
Rites of Spring,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Golliwogs,
Robert Hood,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Donny Hathaway,
The Cowsills,
The Fortunes,
Radiopuhelimet,
Roxette,
Rakim,
Marc Almond,
Joe Finger,
Tim Buckley,
Mr. Review,
Gong,
The Motions,
Groovy Waters,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Monks,
The Saints,
The Slits,
AZ,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Ralphi Rosario,
Wire,
Vladislav Delay,
Half Japanese,
Nas,
Bill Near,
June Days,
A Certain Ratio,
Accadde A,
The Dirtbombs,
Ultravox,
Nick Fraelich,
The Names,
Harry Pussy,
Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science.
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.