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 Comoros and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 organ 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks 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 Ken Boothe. All the underground hits.
All The Invisible tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Happenings record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T.S.O.L.,
Sällskapet,
Desert Stars,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Fort Wilson Riot,
the Germs,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Khruangbin,
Camouflage,
FM Einheit,
Gang Starr,
Dennis Brown,
Inner City,
PIL,
John Cale,
Anthony Braxton,
Davy DMX,
Theoretical Girls,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Mandrill,
kango's stein massive,
Aural Exciters,
Lalann,
Eric B and Rakim,
Jerry's Kids,
Nils Olav,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Divine Comedy,
Morten Harket,
Prince Buster,
Nation of Ulysses,
Soft Machine,
Stiv Bators,
Andrew Hill,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Altered Images,
Amon Düül II,
World's Most,
The Monks,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Procol Harum,
Kas Product,
Liliput,
Tubeway Army,
Index,
Pole,
Black Sheep,
Idris Muhammad,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Gories,
Symarip,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Youth Brigade,
Swans,
Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu.
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.