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 Taipei.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 DeepChord presents Echospace to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Monolake. All the underground hits.
All Lightning Bolt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Television record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott Heron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Siglo XX,
Tom Boy,
The Human League,
UT,
Radio Birdman,
Pharoah Sanders,
Barry Ungar,
Marcia Griffiths,
Morten Harket,
Ohio Players,
Derrick Morgan,
Arab on Radar,
Pere Ubu,
Mark Hollis,
Theoretical Girls,
Sam Rivers,
Oneida,
Thompson Twins,
Rufus Thomas,
The Real Kids,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Pantaleimon,
Nation of Ulysses,
Minny Pops,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Yazoo,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Parry Music,
K-Klass,
Marmalade,
D'Angelo,
Crime,
Don Cherry,
Joyce Sims,
Laurel Aitken,
The Doobie Brothers,
Yaz,
Roy Ayers,
Pagans,
Country Teasers,
The Skatalites,
Ituana,
Wasted Youth,
Carl Craig,
L. Decosne,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Beau Brummels,
Jeru the Damaja,
Neu!,
Fela Kuti,
Barbara Tucker,
The Misunderstood,
The Associates,
Angry Samoans,
Von Mondo,
Boredoms,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Mandrill,
Moebius,
Adolescents,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Hardrive, Hardrive, Hardrive, Hardrive.
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.