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 Honduras and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 spring reverb 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 Victims to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Nirvana. All the underground hits.
All Albert Ayler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Seeds record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marvin Gaye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kayak,
Black Moon,
Moebius,
Ultravox,
Swell Maps,
EPMD,
the Soft Cell,
Sam Rivers,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Minor Threat,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Last Poets,
Technova,
Todd Terry,
Fugazi,
Eurythmics,
A Flock of Seagulls,
48th St. Collective,
Pharoah Sanders,
Lightning Bolt,
Davy DMX,
Johnny Clarke,
Unrelated Segments,
Frankie Knuckles,
Glenn Branca,
Hoover,
Barbara Tucker,
Royal Trux,
E-Dancer,
Clear Light,
Saccharine Trust,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Outsiders,
Con Funk Shun,
Desert Stars,
Brothers Johnson,
The Durutti Column,
Boredoms,
China Crisis,
Matthew Bourne,
Arthur Verocai,
La Düsseldorf,
These Immortal Souls,
Cheater Slicks,
The Motions,
Zero Boys,
Eric B and Rakim,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Yellowson,
Donny Hathaway,
Pantaleimon,
Cymande,
Sight & Sound,
The Stooges,
Donald Byrd,
D'Angelo,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Blancmange,
The Alarm Clocks,
Avey Tare,
Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar.
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.