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 Tunisia and from Taipei.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 Holger Czukay 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 Sonny Sharrock 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 These Immortal Souls. All the underground hits.
All Reuben Wilson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ash Ra Tempel record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 a synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The American Breed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oblivians,
the Slits,
Television,
The Gladiators,
Althea and Donna,
Max Romeo,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Talk Talk,
Freddie Wadling,
Hasil Adkins,
Maleditus Sound,
The Mummies,
F. McDonald,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Ultra Naté,
Patti Smith,
Dawn Penn,
Peter and Kerry,
Public Enemy,
Lyres,
Accadde A,
Cluster,
Symarip,
Ossler,
Duran Duran,
Gang Green,
Rapeman,
The Shadows of Knight,
Groovy Waters,
Pharoah Sanders,
the Association,
X-102,
Shoche,
Vladislav Delay,
The Moody Blues,
Arthur Verocai,
Babytalk,
Jeff Lynne,
Soul Sonic Force,
Sandy B,
Von Mondo,
The Knickerbockers,
Vainqueur,
Barbara Tucker,
Terrestrial Tones,
Leonard Cohen,
Ronnie Foster,
Sight & Sound,
Panda Bear,
Negative Approach,
JFA,
Black Sheep,
Television Personalities,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Buzzcocks,
The Move,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Brand Nubian,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson.
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.