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 Madagascar and from Portland.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 oboe 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 Big Daddy Kane to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Sexual Harrassment. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers Ubiquity tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Swans 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Minor Threat,
Zapp,
John Foxx,
Faust,
Nas,
Todd Terry,
KRS-One,
Depeche Mode,
Joy Division,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Raincoats,
The Cramps,
Al Stewart,
The Litter,
Wings,
Echospace,
Audionom,
The Pop Group,
The Divine Comedy,
Idris Muhammad,
The Trojans,
Smog,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Tommy Roe,
Rakim,
Marcia Griffiths,
Bob Dylan,
Cluster,
Cal Tjader,
Deakin,
Moby Grape,
Kas Product,
Harpers Bizarre,
Laurel Aitken,
The Selecter,
Slave,
The Toasters,
Trumans Water,
The Move,
Minnie Riperton,
Sister Nancy,
Letta Mbulu,
Bill Wells,
Sound Behaviour,
Pantytec,
Kayak,
the Human League,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Rapeman,
Harry Pussy,
Blake Baxter,
Derrick Morgan,
The Five Americans,
Shoche,
Lightning Bolt,
Malaria!,
Tres Demented,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Lucky Dragons,
Bill Near,
The Gladiators,
MC5, MC5, MC5, MC5.
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.