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 Estonia and from Calgary.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 B.T. Express 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 Unrelated Segments. All the underground hits.
All Sex Pistols tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sun Ra 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Parrish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Toni Rubio,
Eric Copeland,
Sight & Sound,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Faust,
the Sonics,
Tom Boy,
Das Ding,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Bootsy Collins,
PIL,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Grauzone,
Severed Heads,
The Buckinghams,
Shoche,
Alphaville,
The Cramps,
Freddie Wadling,
Bobby Sherman,
Soulsonic Force,
Alton Ellis,
Ronnie Foster,
Khruangbin,
The Searchers,
The Move,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Aswad,
Idris Muhammad,
Maurizio,
Pagans,
Monks,
The Pretty Things,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Matthew Halsall,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Oneida,
T.S.O.L.,
Bill Near,
Animal Collective,
Lungfish,
OOIOO,
Piero Umiliani,
Rakim,
Inner City,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
U.S. Maple,
Crispian St. Peters,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Icehouse,
Funkadelic,
Connie Case,
Eurythmics,
Al Stewart,
Tommy Roe,
Howard Jones,
Smog,
Average White Band,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Blues Magoos,
Chris & Cosey,
Chrome, Chrome, Chrome, Chrome.
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.