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 Denmark and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 clarinet 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 The Names to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All Susan Cadogan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam 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 harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slick Rick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eli Mardock,
JFA,
Isaac Hayes,
Agent Orange,
Gerry Rafferty,
Desert Stars,
Panda Bear,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Shadows of Knight,
Neil Young,
Little Man,
Aural Exciters,
Half Japanese,
Motorama,
OOIOO,
Deadbeat,
Supertramp,
F. McDonald,
The Dead C,
Franke,
Pole,
The Knickerbockers,
Funkadelic,
Pussy Galore,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Monks,
Arthur Verocai,
Al Stewart,
Mark Hollis,
Crispian St. Peters,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Boredoms,
Average White Band,
Chris & Cosey,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Skaos,
Audionom,
E-Dancer,
The United States of America,
Wally Richardson,
Bad Manners,
Crispy Ambulance,
Delta 5,
Bang On A Can,
The Human League,
The Count Five,
D'Angelo,
Jacob Miller,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Dave Gahan,
Glenn Branca,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Tears for Fears,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Glambeats Corp.,
Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman.
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.