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 Slovakia and from Accra.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Bob Dylan to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Red Lorry Yellow Lorry. All the underground hits.
All The Durutti Column tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Hutcherson 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Misunderstood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ice-T,
Black Bananas,
Erasure,
Tomorrow,
The Walker Brothers,
Wire,
Nils Olav,
Bill Near,
Wings,
Tubeway Army,
Jacob Miller,
Bootsy Collins,
Yusef Lateef,
Delta 5,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Mummies,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Lou Christie,
Visage,
John Foxx,
The Count Five,
Andrew Hill,
The Raincoats,
Terry Callier,
The United States of America,
Black Moon,
Silicon Teens,
Cybotron,
La Düsseldorf,
June of 44,
kango's stein massive,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Khruangbin,
Television,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
CMW,
Fat Boys,
Joy Division,
Fugazi,
Ultra Naté,
Brass Construction,
Johnny Clarke,
Dennis Brown,
Wasted Youth,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Lakeside,
Kerri Chandler,
Fela Kuti,
X-Ray Spex,
the Human League,
Thee Headcoats,
Urselle,
David Axelrod,
Juan Atkins,
Vainqueur,
Mary Jane Girls,
Surgeon,
Byron Stingily,
The Monks,
The Fuzztones,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Danielle Patucci,
The Cramps,
R.M.O.,
Alton Ellis, Alton Ellis, Alton Ellis, Alton Ellis.
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.