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 Singapore and from Taipei.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Spandau Ballet to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Dead Boys. All the underground hits.
All the Normal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Associates record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Red Krayola record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Q65,
Ultimate Spinach,
New Order,
Anakelly,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Rekid,
The Happenings,
Brothers Johnson,
These Immortal Souls,
Monks,
Sugar Minott,
Fad Gadget,
Blancmange,
ABBA,
Sun City Girls,
The Real Kids,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Dirtbombs,
Can,
Joensuu 1685,
Barry Ungar,
Unrelated Segments,
Babytalk,
T. Rex,
Drive Like Jehu,
X-Ray Spex,
Pulsallama,
Donny Hathaway,
Mandrill,
Dorothy Ashby,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Oblivians,
Kas Product,
The Young Rascals,
Crash Course in Science,
Neil Young,
Negative Approach,
Ohio Players,
Das Ding,
Laurel Aitken,
The Seeds,
The Red Krayola,
This Heat,
Gil Scott Heron,
Outsiders,
Gregory Isaacs,
Pussy Galore,
Jawbox,
Connie Case,
Dual Sessions,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Newcleus,
Panda Bear,
Section 25,
Ronnie Foster,
Pierre Henry,
Soul Sonic Force,
Bob Dylan,
Archie Shepp,
Trumans Water,
Interpol,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Stooges,
Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can.
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.