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 Costa Rica and from New York.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Manila.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Marshall Jefferson to the jazz 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 The Martian. All the underground hits.
All Carl Craig tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marmalade 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 a guitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brothers Johnson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispian St. Peters,
The Electric Prunes,
Man Eating Sloth,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
CMW,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Flesh Eaters,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
U.S. Maple,
Babytalk,
Pharoah Sanders,
In Retrospect,
Terry Callier,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Camberwell Now,
Cal Tjader,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Mission of Burma,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Wolf Eyes,
Excepter,
Grauzone,
Icehouse,
Nation of Ulysses,
Camouflage,
James White and The Blacks,
Eve St. Jones,
Unwound,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Skarface,
Tomorrow,
Joyce Sims,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Donald Byrd,
The Skatalites,
Alphaville,
Sister Nancy,
Junior Murvin,
Audionom,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Idris Muhammad,
Ten City,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Derrick Morgan,
Livin' Joy,
The Cure,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Talk Talk,
Gang of Four,
Moss Icon,
Visage,
Johnny Clarke,
Suicide,
EPMD,
Terrestrial Tones,
Blossom Toes,
Model 500,
David Axelrod,
Half Japanese,
Heaven 17,
Chrome,
Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster.
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.