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 Burkina and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron 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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Mandrill to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Roy Ayers Ubiquity. All the underground hits.
All Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joe Smooth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moby Grape record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Steve Hackett,
New Order,
Alice Coltrane,
The Offenders,
Scion,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
R.M.O.,
Make Up,
Bobby Sherman,
Chris & Cosey,
Unrelated Segments,
Jacques Brel,
Marcia Griffiths,
Buzzcocks,
Tomorrow,
Sex Pistols,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Mummies,
Charles Mingus,
Japan,
The Trojans,
Lou Christie,
David Bowie,
Bill Wells,
The Sonics,
Babytalk,
David McCallum,
Warsaw,
Amon Düül,
Pere Ubu,
the Germs,
The Slits,
David Axelrod,
Albert Ayler,
Yazoo,
Black Bananas,
Section 25,
Joe Smooth,
Tom Boy,
Isaac Hayes,
The Flesh Eaters,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Buckinghams,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Scratch Acid,
The Real Kids,
Schoolly D,
The Beau Brummels,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Clear Light,
The Index,
The Skatalites,
Monks,
The Smoke,
Bizarre Inc.,
Gang Green,
Shoche,
Skaos,
Brass Construction,
The Standells,
Soft Machine,
Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun.
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.