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 Barbados and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 oboe 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 New York Dolls to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Monolake. All the underground hits.
All The Mojo Men tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Young Rascals record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a F. McDonald record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Iggy Pop,
Schoolly D,
FM Einheit,
The Gap Band,
Rakim,
Kurtis Blow,
Desert Stars,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Pussy Galore,
The Divine Comedy,
DJ Sneak,
Tears for Fears,
Livin' Joy,
Mars,
David Axelrod,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Lungfish,
Robert Hood,
The Techniques,
Chrome,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Television,
Model 500,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Altered Images,
Blossom Toes,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Smog,
Archie Shepp,
Porter Ricks,
The Gladiators,
The Neon Judgement,
the Swans,
Neil Young,
Scrapy,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Five Americans,
Steve Hackett,
The Fall,
The Index,
David McCallum,
Kevin Saunderson,
Urselle,
The Slackers,
Minor Threat,
Byron Stingily,
Janne Schatter,
Donald Byrd,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Kinks,
Magma,
Aural Exciters,
Nirvana,
Von Mondo,
Angry Samoans,
Technova,
Das Ding,
Derrick May,
Roxette,
The Searchers,
Howard Jones,
John Coltrane,
One Last Wish, One Last Wish, One Last Wish, One Last Wish.
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.