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 Poland and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Mumbai.
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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Man Eating Sloth to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Sandy B. All the underground hits.
All Simply Red tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Johnny Clarke record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sam Rivers,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
New Order,
The Cowsills,
Metal Thangz,
The United States of America,
Y Pants,
kango's stein massive,
Kayak,
Organ,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
La Düsseldorf,
The Knickerbockers,
Rekid,
Gabor Szabo,
Nils Olav,
E-Dancer,
Faraquet,
the Swans,
The Human League,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Fela Kuti,
Dual Sessions,
Unwound,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Shoche,
Quantec,
K-Klass,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Mission of Burma,
Bush Tetras,
Erasure,
Talk Talk,
Juan Atkins,
John Coltrane,
Traffic Nightmare,
Blossom Toes,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Johnny Clarke,
Gang Green,
Loose Ends,
Wasted Youth,
Nico,
Throbbing Gristle,
David Bowie,
The Fall,
Erykah Badu,
Whodini,
PIL,
Magazine,
Donny Hathaway,
Siglo XX,
John Lydon,
Wings,
Patti Smith,
Man Parrish,
Crash Course in Science,
The Gap Band,
New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers.
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.