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 Niger and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Davy DMX 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 Agitation Free. All the underground hits.
All Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Slits record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dead C record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roger Hodgson,
The Beau Brummels,
Andrew Hill,
Bob Dylan,
Ludus,
Kerrie Biddell,
Bobby Womack,
Kenny Larkin,
Skaos,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Doors,
Tres Demented,
Can,
Ronan,
Half Japanese,
Talk Talk,
Popol Vuh,
The Neon Judgement,
F. McDonald,
Minny Pops,
Boz Scaggs,
Althea and Donna,
Radiohead,
Audionom,
Johnny Osbourne,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Dark Day,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Neil Young,
FM Einheit,
Aaron Thompson,
Marcia Griffiths,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Excepter,
Robert Wyatt,
Gerry Rafferty,
Rapeman,
Juan Atkins,
The Victims,
Mary Jane Girls,
Smog,
Accadde A,
Marmalade,
Infiniti,
Sällskapet,
Warsaw,
The Fugs,
Glenn Branca,
Thee Headcoats,
Blake Baxter,
Kool Moe Dee,
Gregory Isaacs,
Shoche,
Gil Scott Heron,
L. Decosne,
One Last Wish,
Faust,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Camouflage,
Bill Near,
Organ, Organ, Organ, Organ.
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.