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 Cuba and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Q and Not U to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Delon & Dalcan. All the underground hits.
All Al Stewart tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Connie Case record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New York Dolls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Clear Light,
Bootsy Collins,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
the Fania All-Stars,
Joe Finger,
Judy Mowatt,
Oblivians,
Gang of Four,
Lightning Bolt,
Icehouse,
Sarah Menescal,
Josef K,
Gabor Szabo,
Erasure,
The Mojo Men,
Sandy B,
Sex Pistols,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Bang On A Can,
Hoover,
The Cure,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Joey Negro,
World's Most,
Isaac Hayes,
Khruangbin,
U.S. Maple,
Crispy Ambulance,
Ohio Players,
Aloha Tigers,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Bobby Sherman,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Shoche,
Groovy Waters,
Fat Boys,
Eddi Front,
Rites of Spring,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Make Up,
Pantytec,
Alton Ellis,
Banda Bassotti,
Bill Near,
Half Japanese,
Yazoo,
Chrome,
This Heat,
Symarip,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Gong,
Althea and Donna,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
John Lydon,
Wolf Eyes,
Vainqueur,
Stiv Bators,
Colin Newman,
ABC,
Faust,
Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy.
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.