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 Ethiopia and from Tokyo.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Pulsallama to the crunk 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 Funky Four + One. All the underground hits.
All Throbbing Gristle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Jesus and Mary Chain record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Blues Magoos record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Misunderstood,
Cal Tjader,
Massinfluence,
The Flesh Eaters,
Con Funk Shun,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Leaves,
The Sound,
Mission of Burma,
The Star Department,
Popol Vuh,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Y Pants,
Sonny Sharrock,
Max Romeo,
Tears for Fears,
Toni Rubio,
Lakeside,
UT,
Ossler,
Smog,
Eurythmics,
Excepter,
Robert Hood,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Count Five,
Bang On A Can,
Bush Tetras,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
DNA,
Ralphi Rosario,
Sight & Sound,
ABC,
Black Flag,
Lou Christie,
Mark Hollis,
Dark Day,
Crispian St. Peters,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Patti Smith,
Sex Pistols,
E-Dancer,
Procol Harum,
Cameo,
Joe Smooth,
Franke,
Lebanon Hanover,
Oneida,
Main Source,
New Age Steppers,
Oblivians,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Hasil Adkins,
Reagan Youth,
Isaac Hayes,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Deepchord,
David McCallum,
Matthew Bourne,
Bobby Womack,
The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang.
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.