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 Malawi and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 The Young Rascals to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Radio Birdman. All the underground hits.
All Sonny Sharrock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scientists record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 rhodes and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Animal Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cure,
Bad Manners,
Altered Images,
the Human League,
Throbbing Gristle,
Mission of Burma,
Infiniti,
Circle Jerks,
Stockholm Monsters,
Jawbox,
Youth Brigade,
The Flesh Eaters,
Icehouse,
Bobby Byrd,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Dave Gahan,
LL Cool J,
The Alarm Clocks,
Deakin,
Barbara Tucker,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Matthew Halsall,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Wally Richardson,
Mantronix,
Sandy B,
Cameo,
Cluster,
Soulsonic Force,
Organ,
The Leaves,
A Certain Ratio,
The Black Dice,
Rod Modell,
Scientists,
the Germs,
Sight & Sound,
Panda Bear,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Alphaville,
Tropical Tobacco,
Sällskapet,
Black Flag,
Radiopuhelimet,
Technova,
PIL,
One Last Wish,
The United States of America,
The Standells,
Maurizio,
Nas,
The Durutti Column,
Glenn Branca,
The Pop Group,
Grandmaster Flash,
Janne Schatter,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Saints,
Morten Harket,
The Move,
Gong, Gong, Gong, Gong.
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.