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 Swaziland and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 marimba 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 Alice Coltrane to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Rakim. All the underground hits.
All Bill Wells tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flash Fearless record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Whodini record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suicide,
Little Man,
Gong,
David Bowie,
Joyce Sims,
the Human League,
Gang Starr,
Grauzone,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Echospace,
John Holt,
Matthew Bourne,
Dark Day,
Bluetip,
Maleditus Sound,
Kevin Saunderson,
Ohio Players,
Man Eating Sloth,
Stetsasonic,
Mark Hollis,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Minny Pops,
Barclay James Harvest,
Pierre Henry,
Niagra,
Bob Dylan,
The Misunderstood,
Bobby Sherman,
Joey Negro,
Lalo Schifrin,
Barrington Levy,
Lou Christie,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Standells,
Absolute Body Control,
Cal Tjader,
Arcadia,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Gabor Szabo,
New Order,
Amon Düül II,
Surgeon,
PIL,
The Slackers,
Pussy Galore,
The Gories,
Schoolly D,
Eve St. Jones,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
KRS-One,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Cymande,
Swans,
Mad Mike,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Scratch Acid,
The Five Americans,
The Buckinghams,
Eric Dolphy,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Accadde A,
Arthur Verocai,
Underground Resistance,
Hoover, Hoover, Hoover, Hoover.
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.