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 Senegal and from Calgary.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 808 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 Traffic Nightmare 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 Intrusion. All the underground hits.
All Duran Duran tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James White and The Blacks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Evens record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rufus Thomas,
Eric Copeland,
The Golliwogs,
Rakim,
Barry Ungar,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Happenings,
Blossom Toes,
Darondo,
Wasted Youth,
KRS-One,
The Martian,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Franke,
Lalo Schifrin,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
the Association,
New Age Steppers,
Johnny Clarke,
Kerrie Biddell,
the Normal,
Glambeats Corp.,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Skaos,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Lightning Bolt,
The Litter,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Barrington Levy,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Albert Ayler,
Minny Pops,
The Blackbyrds,
Pulsallama,
Hoover,
Quando Quango,
Bang On A Can,
These Immortal Souls,
The Star Department,
World's Most,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Wake,
Isaac Hayes,
Mars,
Simply Red,
Main Source,
Loose Ends,
Don Cherry,
The Searchers,
Desert Stars,
Ronnie Foster,
Gregory Isaacs,
Dead Boys,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Grass Roots,
Interpol,
Wire,
Tropical Tobacco,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Rites of Spring,
Jacques Brel,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Lyres, Lyres, Lyres, Lyres.
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.