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 Grenada and from Bologna.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 spring reverb 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 Lalo Schifrin to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Durutti Column. All the underground hits.
All Curtis Mayfield tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marcia Griffiths record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sonics,
Pylon,
Slick Rick,
Scott Walker,
Sparks,
Robert Görl,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Lou Christie,
The Toasters,
Kaleidoscope,
Grey Daturas,
Al Stewart,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Banda Bassotti,
Ronan,
Gil Scott Heron,
Sound Behaviour,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Minutemen,
Black Bananas,
Rotary Connection,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Nick Fraelich,
These Immortal Souls,
Outsiders,
Alice Coltrane,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
LL Cool J,
The Evens,
Gong,
Mr. Review,
Gregory Isaacs,
Deadbeat,
Metal Thangz,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Tres Demented,
Tears for Fears,
Mission of Burma,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Little Man,
Prince Buster,
Los Fastidios,
Big Daddy Kane,
Unwound,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Neon Judgement,
The Durutti Column,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Second Layer,
E-Dancer,
Cal Tjader,
Gerry Rafferty,
Easy Going,
Sex Pistols,
The Blues Magoos,
Spoonie Gee,
Morten Harket,
U.S. Maple,
Idris Muhammad,
Jeff Lynne,
The Shadows of Knight,
Grauzone,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry.
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.