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 Qatar and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 Glasgow and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Traffic Nightmare to the crunk 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 The Zeros. All the underground hits.
All The Doobie Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Section 25 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moby Grape,
X-Ray Spex,
Fatback Band,
Joe Finger,
Sister Nancy,
Eric Copeland,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Smog,
Ronnie Foster,
Schoolly D,
Qualms,
Gang of Four,
AZ,
The Toasters,
Radiopuhelimet,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Divine Comedy,
The Five Americans,
Brothers Johnson,
Quantec,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Angels of Light,
Fela Kuti,
Johnny Clarke,
Alphaville,
the Association,
The Gories,
Susan Cadogan,
Skriet,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Fear,
Masters at Work,
Alice Coltrane,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Bronski Beat,
Donny Hathaway,
Tropical Tobacco,
Wasted Youth,
Suburban Knight,
Maleditus Sound,
Be Bop Deluxe,
T.S.O.L.,
The Count Five,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Graham Central Station,
Mad Mike,
Hasil Adkins,
Oblivians,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Gang Green,
Crime,
a-ha,
Barry Ungar,
the Sonics,
The Happenings,
Whodini,
Popol Vuh,
Unrelated Segments,
Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen.
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.