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 Sri Lanka and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 arpeggiator 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 Carl Craig to the jazz 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 The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band. All the underground hits.
All The Misunderstood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sällskapet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cecil Taylor,
the Bar-Kays,
Gang Starr,
Sixth Finger,
Crispy Ambulance,
Pylon,
Basic Channel,
Chrome,
The Neon Judgement,
Minutemen,
Easy Going,
Godley & Creme,
Lou Reed,
Shuggie Otis,
48th St. Collective,
Kenny Larkin,
Lyres,
Altered Images,
Althea and Donna,
David Bowie,
Matthew Halsall,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Model 500,
Cluster,
Eli Mardock,
Blossom Toes,
Pet Shop Boys,
The United States of America,
Zero Boys,
Man Eating Sloth,
Maurizio,
The Techniques,
Massinfluence,
Fugazi,
Kas Product,
Echospace,
Alice Coltrane,
Japan,
the Soft Cell,
Rotary Connection,
Johnny Osbourne,
Soft Cell,
Theoretical Girls,
Junior Murvin,
Simply Red,
Graham Central Station,
Big Daddy Kane,
Lightning Bolt,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Chris Corsano,
Sex Pistols,
Derrick Morgan,
Infiniti,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Names,
Judy Mowatt,
The Move,
Television,
Tomorrow,
Vainqueur,
Ken Boothe,
Ludus,
Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys.
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.