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 Australia and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 linndrum 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 Roy Ayers to the grunge 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 Half Japanese. All the underground hits.
All Beasts of Bourbon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Funkadelic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Detroit Cobras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heaven 17,
The Saints,
Saccharine Trust,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Human League,
Johnny Osbourne,
Audionom,
Reuben Wilson,
Crooked Eye,
Babytalk,
Tropical Tobacco,
Susan Cadogan,
Terrestrial Tones,
Glambeats Corp.,
Donny Hathaway,
Scrapy,
Kevin Saunderson,
Leonard Cohen,
The J.B.'s,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Erykah Badu,
The Zeros,
Bobby Sherman,
Model 500,
Rapeman,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Connie Case,
Stereo Dub,
the Soft Cell,
a-ha,
John Foxx,
Gichy Dan,
Gil Scott Heron,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Suicide,
Funky Four + One,
Circle Jerks,
Section 25,
Moby Grape,
Mars,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Skarface,
Terry Callier,
Monks,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Crispian St. Peters,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Ronan,
Theoretical Girls,
Freddie Wadling,
Quando Quango,
Oblivians,
UT,
Roy Ayers,
Todd Terry,
Drive Like Jehu,
John Holt,
Television Personalities,
Drexciya,
Absolute Body Control,
Rites of Spring,
The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters.
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.