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 Copenhagen.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Donald Byrd to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Rhythm & Sound. All the underground hits.
All Vladislav Delay tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang of Four 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 synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a AZ record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Porter Ricks,
The Gap Band,
ABBA,
Bobby Womack,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Golliwogs,
The Offenders,
Pantaleimon,
The Searchers,
the Fania All-Stars,
Severed Heads,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Tremeloes,
Todd Terry,
Dual Sessions,
Henry Cow,
Cheater Slicks,
Rotary Connection,
Smog,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Blake Baxter,
Mr. Review,
La Düsseldorf,
The Cowsills,
Boogie Down Productions,
Talk Talk,
Bizarre Inc.,
Derrick May,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Idris Muhammad,
Quando Quango,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Moody Blues,
Visage,
Fad Gadget,
Shuggie Otis,
Don Cherry,
AZ,
Sight & Sound,
The Kinks,
Gang Gang Dance,
KRS-One,
Man Eating Sloth,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Danielle Patucci,
The Smoke,
UT,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Donald Byrd,
Cal Tjader,
Organ,
Bootsy Collins,
Colin Newman,
Skaos,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Black Dice,
Radio Birdman,
Warren Ellis,
The Birthday Party,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Deakin, Deakin, Deakin, Deakin.
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.