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 Bolivia and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 theremin 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 Gichy Dan to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Gian Franco Pienzio. All the underground hits.
All Newcleus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gary Puckett & The Union Gap 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cymande record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cheater Slicks,
T. Rex,
Suburban Knight,
Youth Brigade,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Blake Baxter,
Malaria!,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Fortunes,
Albert Ayler,
Ornette Coleman,
ABBA,
Organ,
The Fugs,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Grass Roots,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Soft Cell,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Shadows of Knight,
Crash Course in Science,
The Neon Judgement,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Masters at Work,
Sexual Harrassment,
Junior Murvin,
The Dave Clark Five,
Aswad,
Icehouse,
Gil Scott Heron,
Juan Atkins,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Kenny Larkin,
Scott Walker,
Average White Band,
The Last Poets,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Harry Pussy,
The Cramps,
X-101,
The Count Five,
Funkadelic,
Henry Cow,
Moebius,
Surgeon,
Amon Düül II,
the Swans,
Terry Callier,
The J.B.'s,
Gang Starr,
L. Decosne,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Aaron Thompson,
Janne Schatter,
Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills.
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.