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 Egypt and from Tokyo.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Crispian St. Peters to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish. All the underground hits.
All Marcia Griffiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Neon Judgement record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alice Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Charles Mingus,
Q65,
Sarah Menescal,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Fela Kuti,
China Crisis,
Arab on Radar,
Cameo,
Marcia Griffiths,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Doors,
Maleditus Sound,
The Durutti Column,
Joensuu 1685,
New York Dolls,
The Searchers,
The Evens,
Shoche,
Make Up,
The Litter,
Yusef Lateef,
Davy DMX,
Zero Boys,
Visage,
the Swans,
Oneida,
Jesper Dahlback,
Can,
Rosa Yemen,
U.S. Maple,
Scott Walker,
Guru Guru,
The Moody Blues,
Heaven 17,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Pet Shop Boys,
F. McDonald,
Black Bananas,
Popol Vuh,
Schoolly D,
Bad Manners,
The New Christs,
Angry Samoans,
Mo-Dettes,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Skaos,
Barbara Tucker,
The Leaves,
the Sonics,
John Cale,
Grauzone,
Magazine,
The Associates,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Eric Dolphy,
Agent Orange,
Buzzcocks,
UT,
Delta 5,
Stetsasonic,
Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth.
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.