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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Hong Kong.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the marimba 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 LL Cool J to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Chris Corsano. All the underground hits.
All Tres Demented tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pylon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Patti Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rakim,
The Techniques,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Cybotron,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Negative Approach,
Roy Ayers,
June Days,
The Angels of Light,
Quantec,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Newcleus,
The Martian,
Bill Near,
Rekid,
Lakeside,
The Dave Clark Five,
EPMD,
the Fania All-Stars,
Carl Craig,
Sex Pistols,
Donald Byrd,
Harmonia,
Ornette Coleman,
The New Christs,
Davy DMX,
Section 25,
Bill Wells,
The Residents,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Electric Prunes,
Pierre Henry,
Rosa Yemen,
Eric Dolphy,
Cecil Taylor,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Althea and Donna,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Buckinghams,
Scrapy,
Fluxion,
The Toasters,
Suburban Knight,
Circle Jerks,
The Invisible,
The Searchers,
Silicon Teens,
Sonic Youth,
Derrick Morgan,
The Slackers,
Basic Channel,
The Moleskins,
David McCallum,
F. McDonald,
Soulsonic Force,
Young Marble Giants,
Matthew Halsall,
Kayak,
Bauhaus,
Cheater Slicks,
Pagans,
Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke.
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.