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 China and from Lyon.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 organ 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 Fat Boys to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Faraquet. All the underground hits.
All Peter and Kerry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Saccharine Trust record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mandrill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Cameo,
Ornette Coleman,
The Saints,
Nico,
John Holt,
Mission of Burma,
Marc Almond,
Lalo Schifrin,
Organ,
Depeche Mode,
Ultimate Spinach,
Slick Rick,
The Angels of Light,
Reagan Youth,
Laurel Aitken,
World's Most,
Soul Sonic Force,
Grey Daturas,
E-Dancer,
Brass Construction,
The Mummies,
Quadrant,
Eric B and Rakim,
Cybotron,
X-Ray Spex,
Johnny Osbourne,
Kas Product,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Toasters,
Boredoms,
Groovy Waters,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Star Department,
Glambeats Corp.,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Last Poets,
Fugazi,
Altered Images,
Sam Rivers,
Neil Young,
Suicide,
The Flesh Eaters,
John Cale,
Eve St. Jones,
The Grass Roots,
The Index,
Sun City Girls,
D'Angelo,
Scott Walker,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Livin' Joy,
Minnie Riperton,
The Beau Brummels,
Marvin Gaye,
Minutemen,
Camouflage,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Fela Kuti,
Alton Ellis,
Wasted Youth,
Al Stewart,
Kayak,
Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance.
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.