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 Gambia and from New York.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 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 D'Angelo to the punk 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 Pere Ubu. All the underground hits.
All Faust tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Black Dice 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
Tropical Tobacco,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The J.B.'s,
Moss Icon,
Metal Thangz,
Isaac Hayes,
Gang of Four,
Gichy Dan,
Lalann,
Minor Threat,
Joy Division,
Terrestrial Tones,
Graham Central Station,
Gregory Isaacs,
Brick,
Deakin,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Ronnie Foster,
Aswad,
Bill Near,
Lindisfarne,
Slave,
Y Pants,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Pussy Galore,
Sex Pistols,
Johnny Osbourne,
Zapp,
Quadrant,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Severed Heads,
Angry Samoans,
The Happenings,
The Sound,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Al Stewart,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Infiniti,
Eden Ahbez,
Eurythmics,
The Neon Judgement,
Black Flag,
Ten City,
the Sonics,
The Leaves,
Pylon,
Traffic Nightmare,
Donny Hathaway,
Second Layer,
Bobby Womack,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
X-Ray Spex,
E-Dancer,
Liliput,
Public Enemy,
Gang Green,
Pantaleimon,
Cymande,
Kool Moe Dee,
Saccharine Trust,
Gabor Szabo,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron, Terror Squad Feat. Camron, Terror Squad Feat. Camron, Terror Squad Feat. Camron.
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.