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 Liechtenstein and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Madrid.
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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago to the dance 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 Bootsy Collins. All the underground hits.
All Hashim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nirvana 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Detroit Cobras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Moon,
the Sonics,
Ultravox,
Judy Mowatt,
Mark Hollis,
Massinfluence,
Robert Görl,
Scratch Acid,
Panda Bear,
Sexual Harrassment,
Glambeats Corp.,
Cluster,
Average White Band,
The Last Poets,
Susan Cadogan,
Infiniti,
Ten City,
Nick Fraelich,
The Evens,
Duran Duran,
Robert Wyatt,
The Toasters,
Terry Callier,
Dorothy Ashby,
Sandy B,
Rufus Thomas,
Fat Boys,
Skaos,
Joe Finger,
K-Klass,
the Bar-Kays,
The Invisible,
Ken Boothe,
Section 25,
Agitation Free,
The Monochrome Set,
Crooked Eye,
Depeche Mode,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Mission of Burma,
The Kinks,
Wolf Eyes,
The Vogues,
The Shadows of Knight,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Lucky Dragons,
Niagra,
Lou Reed,
Gabor Szabo,
Pantaleimon,
Joey Negro,
The Five Americans,
Vladislav Delay,
Moby Grape,
Magma,
New York Dolls,
Stiv Bators,
Moebius,
Easy Going,
T.S.O.L.,
Simply Red,
Q65,
Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd.
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.