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 Egypt and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 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 Nick Fraelich to the disco 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 Terry Callier. All the underground hits.
All Eyeless In Gaza tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magma 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 linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fatback Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Bananas,
Bluetip,
Eve St. Jones,
the Association,
The Velvet Underground,
Jerry's Kids,
Curtis Mayfield,
Ituana,
Eric Copeland,
Lucky Dragons,
Marmalade,
Slave,
Scratch Acid,
The Monochrome Set,
The Real Kids,
Roy Ayers,
Urselle,
The Red Krayola,
Severed Heads,
Goldenarms,
Mad Mike,
The Tremeloes,
Nik Kershaw,
Yellowson,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Can,
The Detroit Cobras,
Outsiders,
Absolute Body Control,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Fortunes,
Trumans Water,
Todd Terry,
The American Breed,
Jeru the Damaja,
Cybotron,
Pylon,
In Retrospect,
The Monks,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Yazoo,
KRS-One,
Pantytec,
MDC,
The Kinks,
Khruangbin,
The Fire Engines,
The Human League,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Siglo XX,
Rotary Connection,
Average White Band,
OOIOO,
Todd Rundgren,
Buzzcocks,
The Sound,
T. Rex,
The Cure,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Joyce Sims,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Radiopuhelimet,
Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners.
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.