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 Qatar and from Glasgow.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Tehran.
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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 New Age Steppers to the funk 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 Ossler. All the underground hits.
All Sad Lovers and Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fugs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Drexciya record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dave Clark Five,
Nick Fraelich,
L. Decosne,
DNA,
DJ Sneak,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Heaven 17,
The Human League,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Tom Boy,
Soft Machine,
Soul Sonic Force,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Kayak,
The Move,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Little Man,
Grandmaster Flash,
Johnny Osbourne,
Quantec,
Altered Images,
The Trojans,
Dennis Brown,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Oblivians,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Subhumans,
Japan,
Deepchord,
Simply Red,
Intrusion,
Ituana,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Lakeside,
Blossom Toes,
Sun Ra,
The Fugs,
Scrapy,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Black Flag,
the Soft Cell,
Ken Boothe,
The Monks,
Popol Vuh,
Ponytail,
Qualms,
The Grass Roots,
The Vogues,
Spandau Ballet,
Todd Terry,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Jawbox,
Amon Düül II,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Residents,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
FM Einheit,
Erykah Badu,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Stooges,
Franke, Franke, Franke, Franke.
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.