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 Georgia and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Star Department to the rap 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 Pierre Henry. All the underground hits.
All Maleditus Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every London Community Gospel Choir 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pagans,
Hoover,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Electric Prunes,
Fluxion,
Rakim,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Soft Cell,
Joy Division,
Unrelated Segments,
Lyres,
Joyce Sims,
FM Einheit,
Ultravox,
Man Parrish,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Anthony Braxton,
Accadde A,
Liliput,
Theoretical Girls,
Oneida,
Fatback Band,
F. McDonald,
Von Mondo,
Faust,
Japan,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Aaron Thompson,
Aural Exciters,
Soulsonic Force,
Dennis Brown,
JFA,
Ice-T,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Absolute Body Control,
Sonic Youth,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Basic Channel,
Parry Music,
Carl Craig,
Negative Approach,
Joe Finger,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Panda Bear,
Fugazi,
Soul Sonic Force,
the Sonics,
Dorothy Ashby,
Rod Modell,
Eric B and Rakim,
Bobby Sherman,
Popol Vuh,
Dual Sessions,
AZ,
Nico,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Real Kids,
Gerry Rafferty,
Cheater Slicks,
Duran Duran,
Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun.
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.