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 Mongolia and from Paris.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 spring reverb 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 Boogie Down Productions to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Mummies. All the underground hits.
All Barry Ungar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Justin Hinds & The Dominoes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Max Romeo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blake Baxter,
Rites of Spring,
Niagra,
The Gladiators,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Buckinghams,
Crime,
Sun Ra,
Gichy Dan,
Unwound,
Boz Scaggs,
Bronski Beat,
Blossom Toes,
Radiopuhelimet,
Swans,
Sixth Finger,
Sister Nancy,
Inner City,
Johnny Osbourne,
Banda Bassotti,
Young Marble Giants,
Mantronix,
The Pop Group,
Second Layer,
FM Einheit,
Deakin,
James White and The Blacks,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Scott Walker,
Bush Tetras,
Pylon,
Angry Samoans,
The Cure,
LL Cool J,
Audionom,
Judy Mowatt,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Sällskapet,
The Trojans,
The Angels of Light,
Sparks,
Matthew Halsall,
Trumans Water,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Circle Jerks,
Roxy Music,
Prince Buster,
Roy Ayers,
Barrington Levy,
Yazoo,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
ABC,
Iggy Pop,
The Monks,
Lightning Bolt,
Archie Shepp,
Joey Negro,
The Slackers,
Skriet,
Arab on Radar,
Dave Gahan,
These Immortal Souls,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran.
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.