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 San Marino and from Bologna.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 linndrum 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 Josef K to the crunk 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 Desert Stars. All the underground hits.
All The Doobie Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sixth Finger 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?
The Gap Band,
Delon & Dalcan,
the Sonics,
Bill Wells,
Laurel Aitken,
The Residents,
Al Stewart,
Gabor Szabo,
Marcia Griffiths,
Roger Hodgson,
Fat Boys,
Scientists,
Eurythmics,
Loose Ends,
Smog,
Stockholm Monsters,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The New Christs,
Graham Central Station,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Victims,
Metal Thangz,
The Sonics,
Visage,
The Busters,
Pet Shop Boys,
Kerrie Biddell,
Cheater Slicks,
ABBA,
Ronnie Foster,
The Dead C,
Symarip,
Kool Moe Dee,
Rekid,
Johnny Osbourne,
Wire,
Radiopuhelimet,
Mars,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Red Krayola,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Nick Fraelich,
Mark Hollis,
The Real Kids,
Sun Ra,
Skriet,
Newcleus,
Absolute Body Control,
China Crisis,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
a-ha,
Trumans Water,
Warsaw,
Television Personalities,
The Raincoats,
Pylon,
Magma,
Alice Coltrane,
Anthony Braxton,
One Last Wish,
Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor.
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.