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 Canada and from Philadelphia.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Animal Collective to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Joe Finger. All the underground hits.
All Juan Atkins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Byrd record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Eating Sloth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Move,
Cheater Slicks,
Kaleidoscope,
Jeff Mills,
Tim Buckley,
The Star Department,
Marvin Gaye,
The Tremeloes,
Los Fastidios,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Sam Rivers,
the Human League,
the Normal,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Slits,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Sun City Girls,
kango's stein massive,
Sexual Harrassment,
Gang of Four,
Heaven 17,
Boz Scaggs,
Kenny Larkin,
China Crisis,
The Fire Engines,
Bobby Byrd,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Technova,
Lungfish,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Minor Threat,
Deadbeat,
The Standells,
Rod Modell,
The Five Americans,
The Fall,
Black Pus,
Siglo XX,
Erykah Badu,
Brothers Johnson,
Television Personalities,
The Modern Lovers,
Pagans,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Jerry's Kids,
Unwound,
FM Einheit,
Leonard Cohen,
The Remains,
Camouflage,
Slave,
Magma,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Ralphi Rosario,
Make Up,
Rosa Yemen,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Brand Nubian,
James White and The Blacks,
Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry.
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.