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 Hungary and from Beijing.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Lower 48 to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The American Breed. All the underground hits.
All Quando Quango tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Letta Mbulu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ash Ra Tempel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minnie Riperton,
The American Breed,
Roy Ayers,
Lalann,
Slave,
Rotary Connection,
Roger Hodgson,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Curtis Mayfield,
Kool Moe Dee,
Ralphi Rosario,
Thee Headcoats,
Tomorrow,
D'Angelo,
Peter & Gordon,
Bronski Beat,
Bush Tetras,
The Doors,
Little Man,
The Slackers,
Steve Hackett,
The Music Machine,
Severed Heads,
Make Up,
Throbbing Gristle,
Model 500,
Eden Ahbez,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Grass Roots,
Pharoah Sanders,
Spoonie Gee,
Darondo,
LL Cool J,
Barrington Levy,
Johnny Clarke,
Godley & Creme,
Subhumans,
Oneida,
Albert Ayler,
Todd Rundgren,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Henry Cow,
Smog,
The Move,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
the Germs,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
T. Rex,
Fugazi,
Josef K,
Kerri Chandler,
Nils Olav,
Bizarre Inc.,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Main Source,
Ponytail,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Joey Negro,
Moss Icon,
Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!.
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.