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 Portugal and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Manfred Mann's Earth Band. All the underground hits.
All Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobbi Humphrey record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Hutcherson,
the Swans,
Stereo Dub,
Lalann,
The Cure,
Heaven 17,
Boz Scaggs,
Chrome,
Sonny Sharrock,
T. Rex,
the Slits,
The Names,
Sex Pistols,
Grauzone,
The J.B.'s,
The American Breed,
CMW,
Curtis Mayfield,
Stockholm Monsters,
10cc,
The Detroit Cobras,
Yusef Lateef,
Babytalk,
Camouflage,
Glenn Branca,
Tom Boy,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Ten City,
Model 500,
Excepter,
Man Eating Sloth,
Avey Tare,
Moby Grape,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Black Flag,
Arcadia,
Jandek,
Spandau Ballet,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Alison Limerick,
Magma,
Lucky Dragons,
The Litter,
JFA,
The Offenders,
Isaac Hayes,
Pussy Galore,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Quando Quango,
The Modern Lovers,
Ronnie Foster,
Davy DMX,
Bang On A Can,
The Residents,
KRS-One,
Jesper Dahlback,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Ponytail,
Pulsallama,
Harry Pussy,
Anthony Braxton,
Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen.
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.