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 Maldives and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 theremin 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 Technova to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Mighty Diamonds. All the underground hits.
All The Toasters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Youth Brigade,
Q and Not U,
Sexual Harrassment,
Blake Baxter,
Howard Jones,
The Gories,
Gong,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Count Five,
Crooked Eye,
The Selecter,
Bobby Womack,
Audionom,
The Durutti Column,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Donald Byrd,
Robert Wyatt,
Harmonia,
The Doobie Brothers,
Alison Limerick,
Jacob Miller,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Grauzone,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Arcadia,
The Residents,
Tom Boy,
Cheater Slicks,
Mandrill,
Rod Modell,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
the Bar-Kays,
Animal Collective,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sparks,
Boogie Down Productions,
Barbara Tucker,
The Slackers,
Bill Wells,
Public Image Ltd.,
Panda Bear,
The Moleskins,
Amon Düül II,
Frankie Knuckles,
Kas Product,
Sarah Menescal,
Ken Boothe,
Alice Coltrane,
The J.B.'s,
The New Christs,
Black Sheep,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Dirtbombs,
The Buckinghams,
Todd Rundgren,
Wings,
Gang Green,
Kaleidoscope,
the Slits,
The Vogues,
Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd.
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.