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 Montenegro and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Kings Of Tomorrow to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Excepter. All the underground hits.
All The Real Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Model 500 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nirvana record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Green,
Audionom,
Funky Four + One,
X-102,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Marshall Jefferson,
Symarip,
Gang Starr,
the Fania All-Stars,
Harmonia,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
H. Thieme,
Pierre Henry,
Easy Going,
The Smoke,
Ronan,
The Fuzztones,
Jacob Miller,
Pagans,
The Angels of Light,
Delon & Dalcan,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Harry Pussy,
Depeche Mode,
Aloha Tigers,
Roger Hodgson,
Peter & Gordon,
Icehouse,
Liliput,
Arthur Verocai,
Severed Heads,
Cybotron,
Morten Harket,
the Germs,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Talk Talk,
Schoolly D,
Sister Nancy,
Byron Stingily,
Little Man,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Wasted Youth,
Bobby Byrd,
The Red Krayola,
Stereo Dub,
Andrew Hill,
Jawbox,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
AZ,
Carl Craig,
Mantronix,
The Happenings,
James White and The Blacks,
Minnie Riperton,
Parry Music,
Yazoo,
Cecil Taylor,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Magma,
June Days,
Judy Mowatt,
Newcleus,
Toni Rubio,
Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs.
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.