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 Sudan and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 spring reverb 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 Kings Of Tomorrow to the grime 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 Cecil Taylor. All the underground hits.
All Jeru the Damaja tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Peter & Gordon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scratch Acid record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Absolute Body Control,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Donny Hathaway,
La Düsseldorf,
Rod Modell,
The Doors,
a-ha,
Lalann,
Joey Negro,
10cc,
Public Image Ltd.,
Depeche Mode,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Victims,
X-101,
Massinfluence,
Robert Görl,
Thee Headcoats,
Shuggie Otis,
Tubeway Army,
Nation of Ulysses,
Henry Cow,
Matthew Bourne,
Circle Jerks,
David McCallum,
Lyres,
Danielle Patucci,
Marshall Jefferson,
Aloha Tigers,
Drexciya,
Ponytail,
Wolf Eyes,
Ituana,
Newcleus,
Fatback Band,
Metal Thangz,
Gastr Del Sol,
Lindisfarne,
Dennis Brown,
Lucky Dragons,
Stetsasonic,
Kevin Saunderson,
Mr. Review,
Clear Light,
The Star Department,
Unrelated Segments,
Tropical Tobacco,
Michelle Simonal,
DNA,
T. Rex,
the Germs,
Roxy Music,
Moby Grape,
AZ,
Roxette,
Ultravox,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Sonics,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Al Stewart,
Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron.
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.