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 Indonesia and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 marimba 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 Robert Hood to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Eli Mardock. All the underground hits.
All Crispian St. Peters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Anakelly record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fela Kuti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang of Four,
Public Enemy,
Dorothy Ashby,
Letta Mbulu,
Ohio Players,
Traffic Nightmare,
Spoonie Gee,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Joey Negro,
Roger Hodgson,
Fat Boys,
Clear Light,
Sam Rivers,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Groovy Waters,
F. McDonald,
the Slits,
Lalo Schifrin,
Lindisfarne,
Kurtis Blow,
The Black Dice,
Trumans Water,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Sonics,
The Dirtbombs,
Bill Wells,
Marmalade,
Saccharine Trust,
Alphaville,
The Cure,
Hashim,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
the Fania All-Stars,
Depeche Mode,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Ultra Naté,
Cybotron,
Nils Olav,
Thee Headcoats,
Adolescents,
Scan 7,
Livin' Joy,
Throbbing Gristle,
T.S.O.L.,
Cabaret Voltaire,
CMW,
The Kinks,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Sun Ra,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Technova,
Ken Boothe,
Mr. Review,
B.T. Express,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Fortunes,
D'Angelo,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Durutti Column,
The Golliwogs,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis.
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.