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 Sweden and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron 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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the theremin 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 Kango’s Stein Massive to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Eurythmics. All the underground hits.
All Siglo XX tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Royal Family And The Poor record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a It's A Beautiful Day record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Brothers Johnson,
Flipper,
Aural Exciters,
Ken Boothe,
Ice-T,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Monks,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Joe Smooth,
New Age Steppers,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Jerry's Kids,
Tres Demented,
Yazoo,
Rufus Thomas,
Frankie Knuckles,
Pantytec,
Kaleidoscope,
Wolf Eyes,
Sandy B,
Roger Hodgson,
The Barracudas,
Bootsy Collins,
The Kinks,
Wasted Youth,
Lou Reed,
Tomorrow,
Mars,
Animal Collective,
Con Funk Shun,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
DJ Sneak,
John Coltrane,
Glenn Branca,
Bad Manners,
The Pretty Things,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Durutti Column,
Minutemen,
Janne Schatter,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Offenders,
Althea and Donna,
Underground Resistance,
Nik Kershaw,
Urselle,
Absolute Body Control,
Donald Byrd,
Ten City,
Lucky Dragons,
Magma,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Gories,
Parry Music,
Excepter,
Angry Samoans,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Brand Nubian,
Jacob Miller,
Von Mondo,
The Gun Club, The Gun Club, The Gun Club, The Gun Club.
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.