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 Pakistan and from Woodstock.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Outsiders to the grime 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 Black Bananas. All the underground hits.
All Stetsasonic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rapeman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dirtbombs,
Wasted Youth,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Stetsasonic,
Royal Trux,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Pantaleimon,
T. Rex,
The Monochrome Set,
Jeff Lynne,
The Knickerbockers,
Erykah Badu,
Gichy Dan,
The Flesh Eaters,
Stiv Bators,
Henry Cow,
Boredoms,
Gong,
Inner City,
Zero Boys,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Connie Case,
Das Ding,
Quadrant,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Roxette,
Skriet,
Technova,
Soft Machine,
Mars,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
New York Dolls,
Cameo,
Yaz,
The Doors,
Steve Hackett,
The Trojans,
Frankie Knuckles,
Cymande,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
X-101,
L. Decosne,
Intrusion,
The Busters,
The Grass Roots,
The Toasters,
Surgeon,
Schoolly D,
Y Pants,
Al Stewart,
Siglo XX,
Charles Mingus,
Slave,
Scientists,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Shadows of Knight,
Theoretical Girls,
Essential Logic,
R.M.O.,
Model 500,
H. Thieme,
The Blues Magoos,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family, Angels of Light & Akron/Family, Angels of Light & Akron/Family, Angels of Light & Akron/Family.
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.