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 Bhutan and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 rhodes 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 Kenny Larkin to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic. All the underground hits.
All Black Sheep tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Schoolly D 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Surgeon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fat Boys,
Erykah Badu,
E-Dancer,
Isaac Hayes,
Funky Four + One,
Jeff Mills,
London Community Gospel Choir,
New York Dolls,
Fela Kuti,
The Selecter,
Harpers Bizarre,
Pantytec,
Supertramp,
Faraquet,
Sister Nancy,
Crooked Eye,
Lucky Dragons,
Mars,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Desert Stars,
Gang Green,
The Seeds,
Sandy B,
China Crisis,
Anakelly,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Residents,
Brick,
Robert Hood,
The Doors,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
8 Eyed Spy,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Suburban Knight,
Delon & Dalcan,
The United States of America,
The Pretty Things,
John Coltrane,
Wally Richardson,
H. Thieme,
Youth Brigade,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
PIL,
The Detroit Cobras,
Slick Rick,
Public Enemy,
Blancmange,
Groovy Waters,
Sarah Menescal,
Eli Mardock,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Dead C,
These Immortal Souls,
David McCallum,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Harry Pussy,
In Retrospect,
Half Japanese,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Kenny Larkin,
U.S. Maple,
Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey.
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.