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 Kazakhstan and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Brass Construction to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Schoolly D. All the underground hits.
All The Smoke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Duran Duran record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 a rhodes and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Archie Shepp,
Royal Trux,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Vladislav Delay,
Joey Negro,
Desert Stars,
Scientists,
Funkadelic,
DJ Style,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Talk Talk,
The Cowsills,
Roxette,
Zapp,
Bush Tetras,
Buzzcocks,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Residents,
Big Daddy Kane,
Todd Rundgren,
Mark Hollis,
Mr. Review,
Newcleus,
Donald Byrd,
Drexciya,
Fat Boys,
Camouflage,
Robert Hood,
New York Dolls,
Eurythmics,
Thompson Twins,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Animal Collective,
Marvin Gaye,
Can,
Crooked Eye,
The Durutti Column,
Basic Channel,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Goldenarms,
Skriet,
Brass Construction,
Eli Mardock,
Joyce Sims,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Kurtis Blow,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Camberwell Now,
Von Mondo,
The Black Dice,
Dawn Penn,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Count Five,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Bad Manners,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Excepter,
The Remains,
The Flesh Eaters,
Average White Band,
Jeff Mills,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy.
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.