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 Latvia and from Columbus.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Chris Corsano to the dance 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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago. All the underground hits.
All Stetsasonic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Erykah Badu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oppenheimer Analysis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crime,
Jawbox,
Smog,
Jerry's Kids,
A Flock of Seagulls,
DJ Sneak,
Masters at Work,
Donny Hathaway,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Audionom,
Fatback Band,
Minnie Riperton,
Johnny Clarke,
The Durutti Column,
The Vogues,
Dennis Brown,
Judy Mowatt,
Jeff Mills,
Soft Cell,
The Modern Lovers,
Deepchord,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Sonny Sharrock,
CMW,
Marshall Jefferson,
Bobby Womack,
Marine Girls,
Anakelly,
Thompson Twins,
The Happenings,
Sly & The Family Stone,
U.S. Maple,
Roxy Music,
Joe Smooth,
Hardrive,
Pierre Henry,
Reuben Wilson,
The Wake,
Kevin Saunderson,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Monochrome Set,
Royal Trux,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Arthur Verocai,
Scion,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Young Rascals,
Porter Ricks,
Matthew Bourne,
Panda Bear,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Buckinghams,
Newcleus,
Tomorrow,
Amon Düül II,
Wings,
The Black Dice,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Delon & Dalcan,
Infiniti,
Wasted Youth,
Steve Hackett,
The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed.
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.