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 Equatorial Guinea and from Mexico City.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Lalann to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Rufus Thomas. All the underground hits.
All Scion tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bluetip 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Charles Mingus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dawn Penn,
The Black Dice,
The Flesh Eaters,
Pierre Henry,
Crispy Ambulance,
H. Thieme,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Smoke,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Byron Stingily,
Warren Ellis,
Technova,
X-Ray Spex,
Tomorrow,
La Düsseldorf,
The Fire Engines,
Ice-T,
Crooked Eye,
Freddie Wadling,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Al Stewart,
Roy Ayers,
New York Dolls,
The Cramps,
The Birthday Party,
Dorothy Ashby,
Stereo Dub,
Scientists,
Mr. Review,
Slick Rick,
Brass Construction,
The Detroit Cobras,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Arthur Verocai,
Eden Ahbez,
Kerri Chandler,
Can,
Blossom Toes,
The Invisible,
Lalann,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Bill Near,
Underground Resistance,
Grey Daturas,
Outsiders,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Red Krayola,
Leonard Cohen,
Swans,
Parry Music,
Make Up,
Symarip,
Jeff Lynne,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Misunderstood,
Andrew Hill,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Gastr Del Sol,
Peter and Kerry,
The Smiths,
The Raincoats, The Raincoats, The Raincoats, The Raincoats.
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.