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 Eritrea and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 rhodes 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 Isaac Hayes to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Sad Lovers and Giants. All the underground hits.
All Suburban Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scratch Acid record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Livin' Joy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June Days,
Cecil Taylor,
EPMD,
Ken Boothe,
Scrapy,
Jandek,
Crispian St. Peters,
The J.B.'s,
Amazonics,
Johnny Clarke,
Livin' Joy,
Stiv Bators,
Procol Harum,
Pulsallama,
Lightning Bolt,
Faust,
Godley & Creme,
Pantytec,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Birthday Party,
Dorothy Ashby,
Bad Manners,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Outsiders,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Porter Ricks,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Pole,
Dennis Brown,
Bobby Womack,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Sarah Menescal,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
These Immortal Souls,
The Tremeloes,
In Retrospect,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Moebius,
Michelle Simonal,
The Kinks,
JFA,
Spandau Ballet,
The Fire Engines,
The United States of America,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Walker Brothers,
Altered Images,
The Last Poets,
Morten Harket,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Liliput,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Star Department,
Soft Machine,
Nils Olav,
the Human League,
The Associates,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Cheater Slicks,
The Offenders,
Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe.
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.