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 Papua New Guinea and from Winnipeg.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
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 Boz Scaggs 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 Swell Maps. All the underground hits.
All Hot Snakes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dorothy Ashby record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 sitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ajijia Myrayebe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mission of Burma,
The Red Krayola,
Gerry Rafferty,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Jerry's Kids,
Cal Tjader,
Cheater Slicks,
Boogie Down Productions,
Soul Sonic Force,
Stiv Bators,
Jacques Brel,
The Mummies,
Lower 48,
Frankie Knuckles,
The United States of America,
Ken Boothe,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Skatalites,
Fad Gadget,
Thompson Twins,
Connie Case,
Zapp,
the Human League,
Bill Near,
Dennis Brown,
The Residents,
Basic Channel,
Morten Harket,
Judy Mowatt,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Gang Gang Dance,
Little Man,
The Motions,
Gabor Szabo,
Pantytec,
Todd Rundgren,
Johnny Osbourne,
Reagan Youth,
Dual Sessions,
Con Funk Shun,
The Music Machine,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Heaven 17,
Supertramp,
Kevin Saunderson,
Shoche,
The Detroit Cobras,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Fugs,
Magazine,
the Slits,
Mars,
Eddi Front,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Jeru the Damaja,
Rufus Thomas,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Spoonie Gee,
Leonard Cohen,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Lindisfarne,
LL Cool J,
Pylon, Pylon, Pylon, Pylon.
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.