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 Marshall Islands and from Copenhagen.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Jimmy McGriff to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band. All the underground hits.
All Lafayette Afro Rock Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Golliwogs 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Erykah Badu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Half Japanese,
Crispy Ambulance,
Jacques Brel,
Roxette,
Nation of Ulysses,
Tim Buckley,
June of 44,
Drexciya,
Lower 48,
Joensuu 1685,
Khruangbin,
Can,
Ultravox,
Blancmange,
Wire,
Tubeway Army,
The Dirtbombs,
Lightning Bolt,
Josef K,
Magma,
Harpers Bizarre,
ABBA,
The Gladiators,
Groovy Waters,
The Buckinghams,
The Martian,
Eddi Front,
Kas Product,
Rosa Yemen,
Dawn Penn,
The Pop Group,
Steve Hackett,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Fat Boys,
The Trojans,
Iggy Pop,
Quantec,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
John Lydon,
The Alarm Clocks,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Rufus Thomas,
Yellowson,
Gang of Four,
Scientists,
Aloha Tigers,
the Swans,
Sällskapet,
Motorama,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Pantaleimon,
Newcleus,
Piero Umiliani,
Soul Sonic Force,
Pole,
Funky Four + One,
Nik Kershaw,
Amon Düül,
Jeff Lynne,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme.
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.