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 Peru and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 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 The Walker Brothers to the rock 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 Monolake. All the underground hits.
All The Last Poets tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rod Modell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Siglo XX record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bad Manners,
8 Eyed Spy,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Maurizio,
Ronan,
Moebius,
The Slits,
DJ Sneak,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Sam Rivers,
Ultra Naté,
These Immortal Souls,
Little Man,
Albert Ayler,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
the Normal,
The Kinks,
The Music Machine,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Crash Course in Science,
Dave Gahan,
Liliput,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Tropical Tobacco,
Jeff Mills,
Visage,
Jeff Lynne,
Wasted Youth,
Black Bananas,
Freddie Wadling,
AZ,
Animal Collective,
Blancmange,
The Red Krayola,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Motions,
The Toasters,
The Tremeloes,
Skarface,
Sarah Menescal,
Aural Exciters,
Grandmaster Flash,
Bob Dylan,
Masters at Work,
Talk Talk,
Chrome,
Das Ding,
Marcia Griffiths,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Q65,
The Offenders,
Anthony Braxton,
Terry Callier,
Ice-T,
The Flesh Eaters,
Harpers Bizarre,
Grauzone,
The Star Department,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Depeche Mode,
Electric Light Orchestra, Electric Light Orchestra, Electric Light Orchestra, Electric Light Orchestra.
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.