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 Fiji and from Stockholm.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Kurtis Blow to the rap 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 Cabaret Voltaire. All the underground hits.
All The Techniques tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tom Boy 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bang On A Can record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hot Snakes,
Ice-T,
Glenn Branca,
The Birthday Party,
Lungfish,
Young Marble Giants,
Whodini,
The Slits,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Ultra Naté,
Gastr Del Sol,
Hashim,
Nik Kershaw,
Banda Bassotti,
Adolescents,
The Happenings,
The Blues Magoos,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
a-ha,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Letta Mbulu,
Eric Dolphy,
Quantec,
The Flesh Eaters,
Roxy Music,
Minutemen,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Eric Copeland,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
X-101,
The Sound,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Von Mondo,
Bill Near,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Velvet Underground,
The Selecter,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Don Cherry,
Jesper Dahlback,
Chrome,
The Angels of Light,
The Buckinghams,
Delon & Dalcan,
Max Romeo,
10cc,
Sugar Minott,
New Order,
Traffic Nightmare,
The New Christs,
Steve Hackett,
Brothers Johnson,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Gang Starr,
Kurtis Blow,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Black Dice,
Outsiders,
World's Most,
UT,
Technova,
Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode.
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.