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 Lesotho and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Mexico City.
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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane to the funk 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 Davy DMX. All the underground hits.
All Isaac Hayes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rotary Connection record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Offenders,
Black Sheep,
New Order,
Cluster,
Section 25,
Mission of Burma,
Joe Finger,
The Real Kids,
Urselle,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Chrome,
The Move,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Bauhaus,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Agitation Free,
Brick,
Pulsallama,
Rosa Yemen,
Sex Pistols,
Adolescents,
the Normal,
Cheater Slicks,
Laurel Aitken,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Blossom Toes,
Y Pants,
The Monochrome Set,
Camouflage,
Arab on Radar,
Robert Hood,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Trojans,
Harpers Bizarre,
Ice-T,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Derrick May,
Bobby Womack,
Ohio Players,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Mad Mike,
Franke,
These Immortal Souls,
Alison Limerick,
Arcadia,
Joensuu 1685,
Ten City,
Sun City Girls,
Guru Guru,
Accadde A,
Barry Ungar,
Goldenarms,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Fortunes,
Joyce Sims,
Radiopuhelimet,
Wolf Eyes,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Five Americans,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Donny Hathaway, Donny Hathaway, Donny Hathaway, Donny Hathaway.
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.