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 Monaco and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Neil Young & Crazy Horse 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 Selector Dub Narcotic. All the underground hits.
All Cabaret Voltaire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Peter & Gordon 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Detroit Cobras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joe Finger,
The Victims,
Danielle Patucci,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Black Dice,
John Lydon,
Sex Pistols,
Ohio Players,
B.T. Express,
Aswad,
Mantronix,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Moleskins,
Television,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Lindisfarne,
Roxette,
Barrington Levy,
Jandek,
Camouflage,
Roy Ayers,
Minnie Riperton,
Model 500,
One Last Wish,
Flamin' Groovies,
Swell Maps,
Susan Cadogan,
Stiv Bators,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Durutti Column,
The Velvet Underground,
the Swans,
Khruangbin,
Junior Murvin,
World's Most,
The Doobie Brothers,
In Retrospect,
Maurizio,
Sound Behaviour,
Brand Nubian,
Henry Cow,
the Soft Cell,
Unrelated Segments,
Gang of Four,
Erykah Badu,
Kurtis Blow,
Bronski Beat,
Monolake,
Lou Christie,
Kerri Chandler,
Blossom Toes,
Joyce Sims,
Marmalade,
Hot Snakes,
Todd Terry,
The Happenings,
Moby Grape,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Mo-Dettes,
Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry.
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.