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 Dominica and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin 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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson to the funk 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 The Barracudas. All the underground hits.
All The Skatalites tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Charles Mingus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Maleditus Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stetsasonic,
The Dead C,
Warren Ellis,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Janne Schatter,
Con Funk Shun,
DJ Sneak,
Barrington Levy,
Talk Talk,
Letta Mbulu,
Zapp,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Silicon Teens,
Newcleus,
The Monochrome Set,
Arcadia,
Kenny Larkin,
Don Cherry,
F. McDonald,
Monolake,
Barry Ungar,
Althea and Donna,
Magazine,
Mr. Review,
Maleditus Sound,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Albert Ayler,
The Wake,
Whodini,
Ohio Players,
Bush Tetras,
Radio Birdman,
Lower 48,
Flamin' Groovies,
Moss Icon,
Junior Murvin,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Carl Craig,
Robert Wyatt,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
La Düsseldorf,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Black Dice,
Kerrie Biddell,
Alton Ellis,
Cybotron,
John Holt,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Rakim,
Sällskapet,
Underground Resistance,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Star Department,
New York Dolls,
Hasil Adkins,
Hoover,
Arthur Verocai,
Porter Ricks,
The Barracudas,
Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow.
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.