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 Sri Lanka and from Shanghai.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 organ 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 Blake Baxter to the electroclash 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 Minor Threat. All the underground hits.
All Goldenarms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heavy D & The Boyz 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oppenheimer Analysis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Fluxion,
Saccharine Trust,
Juan Atkins,
David McCallum,
Morten Harket,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Stockholm Monsters,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Kerrie Biddell,
Joy Division,
Sixth Finger,
the Human League,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Alton Ellis,
The Modern Lovers,
The Toasters,
Pantytec,
Marcia Griffiths,
Josef K,
Parry Music,
Sugar Minott,
Peter and Kerry,
Thee Headcoats,
Average White Band,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Don Cherry,
Heaven 17,
Kevin Saunderson,
Grauzone,
DJ Sneak,
Dawn Penn,
Chrome,
Gang Green,
Tim Buckley,
Ralphi Rosario,
Bizarre Inc.,
L. Decosne,
kango's stein massive,
R.M.O.,
Dennis Brown,
John Lydon,
Girls At Our Best!,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Mission of Burma,
Deakin,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Alarm Clocks,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Moebius,
The Count Five,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Donny Hathaway,
The Selecter,
Joey Negro,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Desert Stars,
F. McDonald,
Sällskapet,
Absolute Body Control,
Shoche,
Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks.
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.