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 Argentina and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 rhodes 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 Underground Resistance to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Kayak. All the underground hits.
All Cal Tjader tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Selector Dub Narcotic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Siglo XX,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Roger Hodgson,
Wolf Eyes,
Anakelly,
The Electric Prunes,
Essential Logic,
Pulsallama,
Smog,
The Sound,
Jeff Mills,
ABBA,
Y Pants,
Faraquet,
Wings,
Brick,
Au Pairs,
The Raincoats,
Procol Harum,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Chris & Cosey,
Zapp,
The Searchers,
Circle Jerks,
Parry Music,
Nik Kershaw,
Juan Atkins,
Al Stewart,
Lower 48,
The Litter,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Visage,
Stereo Dub,
Yusef Lateef,
Faust,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Dual Sessions,
Tres Demented,
Alison Limerick,
Young Marble Giants,
Letta Mbulu,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Move,
Bizarre Inc.,
F. McDonald,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Cheater Slicks,
Absolute Body Control,
Index,
The Music Machine,
The Last Poets,
Desert Stars,
Deakin,
The Blackbyrds,
The Blues Magoos,
The Sonics,
Don Cherry,
Mantronix,
Los Fastidios,
Albert Ayler,
Jacob Miller,
Qualms,
The Buckinghams,
The Walker Brothers, The Walker Brothers, The Walker Brothers, The Walker Brothers.
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.