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 Lithuania and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Shanghai.
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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the organ 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 Suicide to the funk 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 Archie Shepp. All the underground hits.
All Sun Ra Arkestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sun City Girls 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 a mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Girls At Our Best! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boredoms,
Scion,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Mandrill,
The Pretty Things,
Black Pus,
Dennis Brown,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Kenny Larkin,
The Happenings,
June of 44,
Black Moon,
Symarip,
Soft Cell,
Andrew Hill,
Circle Jerks,
Tropical Tobacco,
Marc Almond,
Amon Düül,
Joey Negro,
The Vogues,
Interpol,
One Last Wish,
Bob Dylan,
Spandau Ballet,
Quantec,
Grey Daturas,
Cecil Taylor,
Bush Tetras,
Josef K,
Dorothy Ashby,
Au Pairs,
Tomorrow,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Tres Demented,
Surgeon,
Alphaville,
Morten Harket,
Rotary Connection,
Davy DMX,
The Shadows of Knight,
Bootsy Collins,
Hardrive,
Black Bananas,
Masters at Work,
The Black Dice,
John Foxx,
Girls At Our Best!,
New York Dolls,
In Retrospect,
Lightning Bolt,
Arcadia,
The Beau Brummels,
David Axelrod,
Sun City Girls,
Quando Quango,
the Fania All-Stars,
Minutemen,
Eric Copeland,
Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish.
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.