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 Philippines and from Stockholm.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Infiniti to the jazz 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 The Men They Couldn't Hang. All the underground hits.
All Frankie Knuckles tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every A Flock of Seagulls 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Country Joe & The Fish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Real Kids,
Tropical Tobacco,
Terry Callier,
Slave,
The Index,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Standells,
The Toasters,
Letta Mbulu,
Sugar Minott,
Model 500,
Accadde A,
Guru Guru,
Ultimate Spinach,
Lalo Schifrin,
Au Pairs,
Country Teasers,
the Human League,
The Durutti Column,
Qualms,
Severed Heads,
Yaz,
Groovy Waters,
Crash Course in Science,
Erasure,
Isaac Hayes,
Jawbox,
New York Dolls,
Desert Stars,
Joe Finger,
Ronan,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Mojo Men,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Marmalade,
The Sonics,
Reagan Youth,
the Sonics,
Ponytail,
Easy Going,
Howard Jones,
Stockholm Monsters,
Porter Ricks,
The Doobie Brothers,
Girls At Our Best!,
Flamin' Groovies,
Moss Icon,
Boz Scaggs,
The Blues Magoos,
Quadrant,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Rhythm & Sound,
Negative Approach,
Sex Pistols,
Minnie Riperton,
Buzzcocks,
Archie Shepp,
Cluster,
Jacob Miller,
Liliput,
Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip.
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.