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 Afghanistan and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 organ 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 Jesper Dahlback to the grime 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 Brass Construction. All the underground hits.
All Schoolly D tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ronnie Foster record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Icehouse record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultra Naté,
Don Cherry,
Television,
Panda Bear,
The Busters,
Mandrill,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Grauzone,
Roxy Music,
Newcleus,
David Bowie,
Josef K,
Animal Collective,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Hoover,
the Association,
UT,
Bizarre Inc.,
Sonny Sharrock,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Residents,
Symarip,
Freddie Wadling,
Tomorrow,
A Certain Ratio,
The Young Rascals,
The Shadows of Knight,
Lyres,
Theoretical Girls,
R.M.O.,
Ten City,
CMW,
Mars,
Bronski Beat,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Fuzztones,
Byron Stingily,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Echospace,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Godley & Creme,
Brothers Johnson,
Trumans Water,
Absolute Body Control,
Lungfish,
Subhumans,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
10cc,
Aloha Tigers,
The Fall,
Avey Tare,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Black Dice,
Oblivians,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Stiv Bators,
Kayak,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Kurtis Blow,
Maurizio,
Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd.
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.