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 United States and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 guitar 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 Dennis Brown to the funk 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 Lou Reed & John Cale. All the underground hits.
All Sugar Minott tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crime 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultravox record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Drexciya,
Audionom,
Jacques Brel,
Moss Icon,
Lightning Bolt,
Gabor Szabo,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
KRS-One,
Lower 48,
Anthony Braxton,
Severed Heads,
Matthew Halsall,
One Last Wish,
Sällskapet,
Ken Boothe,
James White and The Blacks,
These Immortal Souls,
Eddi Front,
Con Funk Shun,
The Residents,
Sonny Sharrock,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Lee Hazlewood,
Section 25,
Soft Machine,
Moebius,
Khruangbin,
Gong,
The Mummies,
Tom Boy,
The New Christs,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Aaron Thompson,
Pharoah Sanders,
Magma,
The Victims,
Harmonia,
Rosa Yemen,
Cecil Taylor,
48th St. Collective,
Wings,
Lyres,
Barbara Tucker,
Laurel Aitken,
the Human League,
Babytalk,
Soul Sonic Force,
Kerri Chandler,
Dead Boys,
A Certain Ratio,
Negative Approach,
ABC,
Godley & Creme,
Faraquet,
MC5,
OOIOO,
Boz Scaggs,
Pole,
B.T. Express,
Kerrie Biddell,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Funkadelic, Funkadelic, Funkadelic, Funkadelic.
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.