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 Brazil and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 chamberlin 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 The American Breed to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Connie Case. All the underground hits.
All Selector Dub Narcotic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heaven 17 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a LL Cool J record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultimate Spinach,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Ohio Players,
Ken Boothe,
Gil Scott Heron,
Flash Fearless,
The Modern Lovers,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Martian,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
D'Angelo,
The Techniques,
Fatback Band,
This Heat,
Albert Ayler,
The Sonics,
Boredoms,
Althea and Donna,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Smoke,
Todd Terry,
Chrome,
The J.B.'s,
Avey Tare,
Inner City,
F. McDonald,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Andrew Hill,
the Association,
The Gun Club,
The Durutti Column,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Lower 48,
Kenny Larkin,
Khruangbin,
The Misunderstood,
Arcadia,
Joe Smooth,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Slackers,
Babytalk,
the Germs,
Brand Nubian,
The Pretty Things,
Gastr Del Sol,
Nation of Ulysses,
Connie Case,
Vladislav Delay,
Dark Day,
Surgeon,
a-ha,
Bad Manners,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
LL Cool J,
Mo-Dettes,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Scott Walker,
Blossom Toes,
Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson.
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.