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 Finland and from Hong Kong.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Bremen.
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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Reuben Wilson to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Public Enemy. All the underground hits.
All Faust tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Strawberry Alarm Clock 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neil Young & Crazy Horse record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eddi Front,
Grandmaster Flash,
Symarip,
Drexciya,
John Foxx,
Lee Hazlewood,
Johnny Osbourne,
Nick Fraelich,
Second Layer,
The Leaves,
The Star Department,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Moby Grape,
Bill Near,
OOIOO,
Au Pairs,
Camouflage,
The Sonics,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Last Poets,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Hardrive,
DJ Sneak,
Zapp,
Eurythmics,
Amon Düül,
Buzzcocks,
Grauzone,
Das Ding,
June of 44,
Black Flag,
Goldenarms,
Robert Hood,
Roxette,
Adolescents,
Subhumans,
Mandrill,
Nils Olav,
Scan 7,
Ornette Coleman,
Scrapy,
Flamin' Groovies,
Black Sheep,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Ituana,
The New Christs,
The Gladiators,
Kas Product,
Skriet,
Hashim,
Judy Mowatt,
The Cowsills,
The Durutti Column,
The Litter,
Erykah Badu,
Harpers Bizarre,
Al Stewart,
The Buckinghams,
Sandy B,
Nas, Nas, Nas, Nas.
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.