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 Yemen and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Donald Byrd to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Wake. All the underground hits.
All The Moleskins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Althea and Donna record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stiv Bators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oneida,
Scrapy,
Brothers Johnson,
Qualms,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Peter and Kerry,
One Last Wish,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Toasters,
Alphaville,
Cal Tjader,
Hasil Adkins,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Barracudas,
Black Moon,
Stetsasonic,
Barry Ungar,
Bootsy Collins,
The Blues Magoos,
Eric Copeland,
The Gories,
Quantec,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Soul II Soul,
Mr. Review,
The Names,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Ronnie Foster,
Popol Vuh,
Flash Fearless,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Reuben Wilson,
Blake Baxter,
Scratch Acid,
Faust,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Little Man,
Moss Icon,
Carl Craig,
Sarah Menescal,
La Düsseldorf,
Quadrant,
Dual Sessions,
The Invisible,
Michelle Simonal,
Gang Green,
E-Dancer,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Cecil Taylor,
Bob Dylan,
Cluster,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Donald Byrd,
Sparks,
Bobby Sherman,
Sex Pistols,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Pere Ubu,
The Gun Club,
Sällskapet,
Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman.
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.