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 San Marino and from Delhi.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Ituana to the dance 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 Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel. All the underground hits.
All Anakelly 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smiths record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rosa Yemen,
The Leaves,
FM Einheit,
Isaac Hayes,
Dennis Brown,
The Trojans,
Unrelated Segments,
Nirvana,
Gichy Dan,
Ronnie Foster,
Amon Düül II,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Cluster,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
LL Cool J,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Sexual Harrassment,
Simply Red,
Little Man,
Pantytec,
E-Dancer,
Max Romeo,
Flipper,
Mission of Burma,
The Smiths,
Skarface,
Quantec,
Kayak,
Agent Orange,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Sixth Finger,
Ken Boothe,
Bob Dylan,
Second Layer,
Sandy B,
Fugazi,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Theoretical Girls,
The Cramps,
Roy Ayers,
Amazonics,
Henry Cow,
Section 25,
the Sonics,
Eve St. Jones,
Model 500,
Albert Ayler,
AZ,
Monolake,
The Birthday Party,
The Index,
Desert Stars,
Echospace,
Dorothy Ashby,
Talk Talk,
Babytalk,
Thompson Twins,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Brand Nubian,
Symarip,
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.