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 St Lucia and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Aaron Thompson to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Radio Birdman. All the underground hits.
All Technova tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stetsasonic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a R.M.O. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rekid,
Y Pants,
Lou Reed,
Can,
The American Breed,
The Durutti Column,
Electric Prunes,
Ponytail,
Don Cherry,
The Smoke,
Soul II Soul,
Radiohead,
Mark Hollis,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Metal Thangz,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Gabor Szabo,
Animal Collective,
Laurel Aitken,
LL Cool J,
L. Decosne,
Zapp,
X-101,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Talk Talk,
Marcia Griffiths,
Angry Samoans,
Rhythm & Sound,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Robert Hood,
Tomorrow,
Tears for Fears,
Saccharine Trust,
FM Einheit,
The Stooges,
Schoolly D,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
DJ Style,
The Moody Blues,
Kurtis Blow,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Fire Engines,
Soul Sonic Force,
Black Bananas,
Moebius,
Yazoo,
the Soft Cell,
The Golliwogs,
Ralphi Rosario,
Amazonics,
Khruangbin,
Simply Red,
Isaac Hayes,
Matthew Halsall,
Mary Jane Girls,
Deakin,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Soft Cell,
the Association,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Arcadia, Arcadia, Arcadia, Arcadia.
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.