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 Barbados and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Fluxion to the funk 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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron. All the underground hits.
All Kayak tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris & Cosey 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 an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tears for Fears record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chris & Cosey,
Brothers Johnson,
Icehouse,
Desert Stars,
Hardrive,
Masters at Work,
Bush Tetras,
Tomorrow,
Steve Hackett,
Khruangbin,
Marmalade,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Man Parrish,
Cameo,
Angry Samoans,
Juan Atkins,
Deadbeat,
Marcia Griffiths,
Yusef Lateef,
The Real Kids,
The Dave Clark Five,
Severed Heads,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Scrapy,
Black Flag,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Grass Roots,
Siglo XX,
Carl Craig,
Gang Green,
Reuben Wilson,
Grey Daturas,
Depeche Mode,
Alice Coltrane,
LL Cool J,
World's Most,
The Knickerbockers,
Magazine,
Joe Finger,
Delon & Dalcan,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Divine Comedy,
Wasted Youth,
Silicon Teens,
Glenn Branca,
Susan Cadogan,
the Slits,
Stetsasonic,
Mr. Review,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Erykah Badu,
Harmonia,
Bootsy Collins,
Aaron Thompson,
Cal Tjader,
Wire,
Minutemen,
Alphaville,
Soulsonic Force,
The Detroit Cobras,
Japan,
Albert Ayler,
Quantec,
Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division.
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.