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 Brunei and from Toronto.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 organ 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 Bob Dylan to the jazz 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 Kas Product. All the underground hits.
All Franke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ken Boothe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Nick Fraelich,
The Five Americans,
Make Up,
The Detroit Cobras,
Juan Atkins,
Oneida,
Theoretical Girls,
Wasted Youth,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Urselle,
Sandy B,
Tropical Tobacco,
Stetsasonic,
John Holt,
PIL,
Joy Division,
The Mojo Men,
The Blues Magoos,
Man Eating Sloth,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Yellowson,
Jandek,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Aural Exciters,
The Offenders,
Agitation Free,
Junior Murvin,
Subhumans,
The Vogues,
The Index,
Don Cherry,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Marshall Jefferson,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Skriet,
Ituana,
Quando Quango,
Arcadia,
Janne Schatter,
Yaz,
The Monks,
Scientists,
Rotary Connection,
Ponytail,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
U.S. Maple,
Swell Maps,
Boogie Down Productions,
Faust,
Pantytec,
Sixth Finger,
Crispian St. Peters,
New Order,
Eve St. Jones,
Can,
Byron Stingily,
The Divine Comedy,
Organ,
Dennis Brown, Dennis Brown, Dennis Brown, Dennis Brown.
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.