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 Tajikistan and from Portland.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Tres Demented to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 London Community Gospel Choir. All the underground hits.
All Mr. Review tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every KRS-One 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The J.B.'s record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Unrelated Segments,
DJ Style,
Yaz,
Sexual Harrassment,
Bluetip,
Underground Resistance,
The Toasters,
Nik Kershaw,
Lyres,
Marine Girls,
AZ,
Gregory Isaacs,
Camouflage,
The Motions,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Warren Ellis,
The New Christs,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Quantec,
Zapp,
Althea and Donna,
Chris & Cosey,
Audionom,
Gichy Dan,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Sonny Sharrock,
Barbara Tucker,
the Association,
Aaron Thompson,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
James White and The Blacks,
Kurtis Blow,
Anthony Braxton,
The Selecter,
The Last Poets,
Absolute Body Control,
June of 44,
Howard Jones,
Nation of Ulysses,
Accadde A,
Au Pairs,
Roger Hodgson,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Drexciya,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Scientists,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Erykah Badu,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Colin Newman,
The Fugs,
Spoonie Gee,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Flipper,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Dirtbombs,
Mary Jane Girls,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Soul II Soul,
Nirvana,
Hoover,
The Pretty Things,
Pylon, Pylon, Pylon, Pylon.
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.