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 Namibia and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Madrid.
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 mellotron 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 Lonnie Liston Smith to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Goldenarms. All the underground hits.
All Skriet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eden Ahbez record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Knickerbockers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stockholm Monsters,
Youth Brigade,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Buckinghams,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Nico,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Ronan,
Sam Rivers,
The Slits,
Joy Division,
Rotary Connection,
FM Einheit,
Max Romeo,
Kayak,
Roxette,
The Misunderstood,
Drexciya,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Nas,
The American Breed,
Icehouse,
E-Dancer,
the Association,
Tropical Tobacco,
Quadrant,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Jimmy McGriff,
Johnny Osbourne,
Danielle Patucci,
The Kinks,
Junior Murvin,
Agent Orange,
Porter Ricks,
Rapeman,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The New Christs,
The Techniques,
Jeru the Damaja,
Skaos,
The Fire Engines,
Tears for Fears,
Aswad,
Eric B and Rakim,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Neil Young,
The Cure,
June of 44,
Donny Hathaway,
Funkadelic,
The Victims,
The Barracudas,
Suburban Knight,
Loose Ends,
Graham Central Station,
Wally Richardson,
The Trojans,
Cluster,
Oblivians,
Ohio Players,
Hoover, Hoover, Hoover, Hoover.
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.