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 Russia and from Cairo.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Seoul.
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 spring reverb 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 Roy Ayers to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra. All the underground hits.
All New Order tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harpers Bizarre record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jerry's Kids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
B.T. Express,
Kurtis Blow,
The Electric Prunes,
Wally Richardson,
Brass Construction,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Cybotron,
Sun Ra,
Janne Schatter,
The Shadows of Knight,
the Slits,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Victims,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
James Chance & The Contortions,
AZ,
Theoretical Girls,
the Association,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Grandmaster Flash,
Stockholm Monsters,
Lebanon Hanover,
Y Pants,
Johnny Clarke,
Procol Harum,
Animal Collective,
Hardrive,
Sixth Finger,
Circle Jerks,
The Doors,
Angry Samoans,
Marc Almond,
Laurel Aitken,
Bad Manners,
Swans,
The Fuzztones,
Gregory Isaacs,
X-102,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Remains,
Throbbing Gristle,
Terrestrial Tones,
Ronan,
The Black Dice,
Kenny Larkin,
The Barracudas,
The Litter,
Iggy Pop,
The Saints,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Gap Band,
Scion,
Idris Muhammad,
Boogie Down Productions,
Magazine,
The Sound,
Jandek,
Franke,
Wasted Youth,
Gong,
Sun City Girls,
Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight.
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.