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 Uganda and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 rhodes 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 The American Breed to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Traffic Nightmare. All the underground hits.
All CMW tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marshall Jefferson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Selecter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gladiators,
Darondo,
EPMD,
The Remains,
Eden Ahbez,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Glambeats Corp.,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Young Marble Giants,
Surgeon,
Pharoah Sanders,
Sonic Youth,
Bush Tetras,
The Cure,
Wally Richardson,
Q65,
The Move,
June Days,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Aswad,
Dual Sessions,
Soft Machine,
Pagans,
The Motions,
F. McDonald,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Deakin,
Traffic Nightmare,
B.T. Express,
Eve St. Jones,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Black Sheep,
Ultimate Spinach,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Todd Terry,
Little Man,
Pussy Galore,
The Monks,
Soft Cell,
Magma,
Steve Hackett,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Reagan Youth,
New Order,
DNA,
Country Teasers,
Tears for Fears,
John Coltrane,
Von Mondo,
Liliput,
Tim Buckley,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Fall,
Mo-Dettes,
Rosa Yemen,
Joey Negro,
Yazoo,
Sex Pistols,
Moss Icon, Moss Icon, Moss Icon, Moss Icon.
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.