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 Netherlands and from Beijing.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
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 Eric Dolphy to the grunge 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 The Shadows of Knight. All the underground hits.
All The Modern Lovers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wasted Youth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Agitation Free,
Bluetip,
Flamin' Groovies,
Wings,
Simply Red,
The Trojans,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Cybotron,
June of 44,
Roger Hodgson,
10cc,
Skarface,
Interpol,
Rod Modell,
Arthur Verocai,
Bootsy Collins,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Sound,
Faraquet,
Freddie Wadling,
Mantronix,
Funky Four + One,
Junior Murvin,
Ultravox,
The Misunderstood,
The Fortunes,
The Black Dice,
The Smiths,
Depeche Mode,
Tubeway Army,
Iggy Pop,
Fugazi,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Susan Cadogan,
The Smoke,
Sparks,
Judy Mowatt,
The Remains,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Metal Thangz,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Mars,
Curtis Mayfield,
Pulsallama,
Country Teasers,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Jimmy McGriff,
The New Christs,
Sound Behaviour,
Bobby Sherman,
Pantytec,
Glambeats Corp.,
Scratch Acid,
The Star Department,
Tom Boy,
The Busters,
Brick,
Hardrive,
Fela Kuti,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Moebius,
Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment.
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.