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 Georgia and from Johannesburg.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the marimba 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 Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane to the jazz 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 Marine Girls. All the underground hits.
All World's Most tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Green record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a sitar 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 clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pantytec,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Eric Copeland,
Model 500,
Wire,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Goldenarms,
Kenny Larkin,
The Fuzztones,
the Association,
Matthew Bourne,
Ronnie Foster,
Anakelly,
China Crisis,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Techniques,
Technova,
Wally Richardson,
Joy Division,
EPMD,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Victims,
Robert Wyatt,
Marshall Jefferson,
Toni Rubio,
Idris Muhammad,
Neil Young,
Von Mondo,
The Tremeloes,
Quando Quango,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Das Ding,
The Slits,
The Martian,
Ohio Players,
Rotary Connection,
Brass Construction,
Mo-Dettes,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Qualms,
The Index,
Harpers Bizarre,
Procol Harum,
Interpol,
Barclay James Harvest,
Desert Stars,
The Shadows of Knight,
Skarface,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
AZ,
Angry Samoans,
Davy DMX,
Infiniti,
Los Fastidios,
The Residents,
Cecil Taylor,
Buzzcocks,
Television,
kango's stein massive,
Amon Düül,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Leaves,
The Raincoats, The Raincoats, The Raincoats, The Raincoats.
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.