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 Hungary and from London.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Fad Gadget to the electroclash 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 Last Poets. All the underground hits.
All Eli Mardock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blossom Toes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brand Nubian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wings,
Lyres,
Gastr Del Sol,
Alphaville,
The Searchers,
Arab on Radar,
Alice Coltrane,
Excepter,
X-102,
Sparks,
Eli Mardock,
Pierre Henry,
The Vogues,
Rakim,
Shuggie Otis,
Neil Young,
Dual Sessions,
James White and The Blacks,
Rufus Thomas,
The Cure,
Nico,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Pere Ubu,
Sex Pistols,
Aural Exciters,
Ponytail,
Man Parrish,
Arthur Verocai,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Erasure,
Sexual Harrassment,
Negative Approach,
Sandy B,
Crime,
Cheater Slicks,
Albert Ayler,
Rotary Connection,
T. Rex,
Wally Richardson,
Public Enemy,
Fluxion,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Tommy Roe,
DNA,
The Saints,
The Evens,
The Monochrome Set,
Bill Wells,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Bush Tetras,
Funky Four + One,
Sam Rivers,
The Mummies,
10cc,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Morten Harket,
Tropical Tobacco,
Tom Boy,
Groovy Waters,
Schoolly D,
The American Breed,
Von Mondo,
Symarip, Symarip, Symarip, Symarip.
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.