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 Marshall Islands and from Edmonton.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Seoul.
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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Leonard Cohen to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Barbara Tucker. All the underground hits.
All Erykah Badu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Richard Hell and the Voidoids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Eating Sloth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agent Orange,
Severed Heads,
the Fania All-Stars,
Skarface,
Glenn Branca,
Bill Near,
L. Decosne,
Can,
48th St. Collective,
Davy DMX,
Moebius,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Blues Magoos,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Angels of Light,
The Star Department,
The Martian,
Eurythmics,
Rakim,
Magazine,
Sam Rivers,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Gregory Isaacs,
DJ Style,
Wire,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
X-101,
A Certain Ratio,
Ultra Naté,
Nas,
La Düsseldorf,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
DJ Sneak,
Symarip,
Grey Daturas,
The Remains,
Thee Headcoats,
The American Breed,
Faust,
Goldenarms,
Johnny Osbourne,
Eve St. Jones,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Bluetip,
Television Personalities,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
8 Eyed Spy,
Brass Construction,
Lindisfarne,
Joe Smooth,
The Fugs,
the Bar-Kays,
Bizarre Inc.,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Erasure,
Minor Threat,
Make Up,
MDC,
Aaron Thompson,
Stiv Bators,
Deepchord,
Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work.
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.