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 Sri Lanka and from Mexico City.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the oboe 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 Donny Hathaway to the rap 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 Alison Limerick. All the underground hits.
All Lalann tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Misunderstood 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harmonia record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fluxion,
The Smiths,
R.M.O.,
the Fania All-Stars,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Crooked Eye,
Porter Ricks,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Crime,
Whodini,
Unrelated Segments,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Sandy B,
Young Marble Giants,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Monochrome Set,
The Fugs,
Ludus,
These Immortal Souls,
Susan Cadogan,
Marmalade,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Ohio Players,
The Techniques,
Joe Finger,
The Slits,
Excepter,
Wally Richardson,
Joy Division,
The Angels of Light,
Black Moon,
The Velvet Underground,
Sällskapet,
Angry Samoans,
New York Dolls,
Sonny Sharrock,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Lyres,
The Detroit Cobras,
Todd Rundgren,
The Red Krayola,
Ponytail,
Gerry Rafferty,
Black Bananas,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Fortunes,
Absolute Body Control,
Morten Harket,
FM Einheit,
Nirvana,
Public Image Ltd.,
Boredoms,
The Flesh Eaters,
Jesper Dahlback,
Lou Christie,
ABC,
Jeff Mills,
The Victims,
Minor Threat,
Hasil Adkins,
Audionom,
Barbara Tucker,
Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane.
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.