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 Estonia and from Mexico City.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Easy Going to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 John Lydon. All the underground hits.
All The Golliwogs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gerry Rafferty record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a EPMD record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monks,
Mars,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Chris Corsano,
Suburban Knight,
Procol Harum,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Tim Buckley,
Magazine,
Groovy Waters,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Duran Duran,
Toni Rubio,
Electric Prunes,
Royal Trux,
Grandmaster Flash,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Gories,
Popol Vuh,
the Fania All-Stars,
Minny Pops,
T.S.O.L.,
The Pretty Things,
Outsiders,
Clear Light,
Fad Gadget,
Laurel Aitken,
Circle Jerks,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Divine Comedy,
MC5,
These Immortal Souls,
Robert Wyatt,
Lindisfarne,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Severed Heads,
Gang Green,
Soft Cell,
D'Angelo,
Excepter,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Maurizio,
The Blues Magoos,
48th St. Collective,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Audionom,
Gong,
Echospace,
Sex Pistols,
Dave Gahan,
The Doors,
Thee Headcoats,
Schoolly D,
The Wake,
Scan 7,
Blossom Toes,
the Human League,
The Techniques,
The Motions,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry.
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.