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 Iceland and from London.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 synthesizer 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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Bobby Hutcherson. All the underground hits.
All Khruangbin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liliput record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Juan Atkins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Andrew Hill,
Khruangbin,
PIL,
The Invisible,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Busters,
Gong,
The Victims,
Radiohead,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Human League,
ABBA,
Brothers Johnson,
The Offenders,
Thompson Twins,
Barbara Tucker,
Marine Girls,
Moebius,
The Flesh Eaters,
Cecil Taylor,
AZ,
kango's stein massive,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Gun Club,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Desert Stars,
Excepter,
The Skatalites,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Gastr Del Sol,
World's Most,
Darondo,
EPMD,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Jandek,
Lebanon Hanover,
Technova,
Lou Reed,
Malaria!,
Fat Boys,
DNA,
Cybotron,
Dawn Penn,
Hashim,
Trumans Water,
Joey Negro,
R.M.O.,
Das Ding,
Boogie Down Productions,
Scott Walker,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Alarm Clocks,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
John Lydon,
Jimmy McGriff,
Ituana,
Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley.
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.