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 Libya and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 theremin 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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs to the punk 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 8 Eyed Spy. All the underground hits.
All Steve Hackett tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Shoche record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 güiro and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nas,
The Techniques,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Jeff Mills,
Maurizio,
Barbara Tucker,
Deadbeat,
The Last Poets,
Scan 7,
Quando Quango,
Nik Kershaw,
Franke,
Nico,
Procol Harum,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Masters at Work,
Roger Hodgson,
T. Rex,
Icehouse,
Crispian St. Peters,
Panda Bear,
Joensuu 1685,
The Gap Band,
Pantaleimon,
Surgeon,
Brick,
Rites of Spring,
The Flesh Eaters,
Alice Coltrane,
David Bowie,
Kaleidoscope,
Crispy Ambulance,
Warren Ellis,
Fugazi,
Tim Buckley,
Lyres,
Cecil Taylor,
Eddi Front,
Babytalk,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Terry Callier,
Scrapy,
Eve St. Jones,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Modern Lovers,
Flash Fearless,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Drexciya,
The Stooges,
Deepchord,
Heaven 17,
Bootsy Collins,
Ralphi Rosario,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Frankie Knuckles,
Donald Byrd,
The Monochrome Set,
The Dead C,
The Skatalites,
The Names, The Names, The Names, The Names.
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.