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 Guatemala and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Tomorrow to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Invisible. All the underground hits.
All Jeff Mills tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rakim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a D'Angelo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flipper,
Quantec,
Gerry Rafferty,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Walker Brothers,
Franke,
Audionom,
Chris Corsano,
Altered Images,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Wings,
Aural Exciters,
Sugar Minott,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Blues Magoos,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Ice-T,
Supertramp,
Gregory Isaacs,
Mo-Dettes,
Girls At Our Best!,
Stiv Bators,
Harry Pussy,
Ken Boothe,
Black Sheep,
Jeru the Damaja,
Absolute Body Control,
Jacques Brel,
The Beau Brummels,
The Kinks,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Robert Wyatt,
Mission of Burma,
Connie Case,
Bronski Beat,
Matthew Bourne,
Prince Buster,
Goldenarms,
Letta Mbulu,
Blancmange,
John Holt,
Danielle Patucci,
Grauzone,
Leonard Cohen,
T. Rex,
Mark Hollis,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
New York Dolls,
Gang Gang Dance,
Popol Vuh,
The Martian,
The Pop Group,
Bluetip,
Lower 48,
The Last Poets,
The Techniques,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Neu!,
The Index,
Laurel Aitken,
Dennis Brown, Dennis Brown, Dennis Brown, Dennis Brown.
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.