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 India and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 guitar 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 The Index to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Cheater Slicks. All the underground hits.
All Funky Four + One tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Q and Not U record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s 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 Kenny Larkin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Martian,
Bill Wells,
Marvin Gaye,
EPMD,
The Gap Band,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Royal Trux,
Lightning Bolt,
Robert Görl,
Chris Corsano,
The Selecter,
Rapeman,
Rites of Spring,
Sarah Menescal,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
the Germs,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Bush Tetras,
Mandrill,
Underground Resistance,
Michelle Simonal,
The Searchers,
Vladislav Delay,
Clear Light,
Mad Mike,
The Monks,
Kayak,
Gregory Isaacs,
Blossom Toes,
Throbbing Gristle,
Electric Prunes,
Urselle,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Minny Pops,
Wings,
The Cowsills,
Andrew Hill,
Rod Modell,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Pylon,
Joyce Sims,
Pere Ubu,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Bobby Byrd,
Y Pants,
Livin' Joy,
New Order,
The Knickerbockers,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Gil Scott Heron,
These Immortal Souls,
The Wake,
World's Most,
Iggy Pop,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
the Bar-Kays,
R.M.O.,
Porter Ricks,
Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff.
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.