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 Tunisia and from Spokane.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 guitar 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 dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Public Enemy. All the underground hits.
All Pussy Galore tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every B.T. Express record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Womack record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Pop Group,
Bang On A Can,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
the Human League,
Rekid,
Janne Schatter,
Ultimate Spinach,
Crooked Eye,
The Dave Clark Five,
Anthony Braxton,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Searchers,
Lalann,
The Raincoats,
Unwound,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Rites of Spring,
Tommy Roe,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Sight & Sound,
The Velvet Underground,
Gang Gang Dance,
Joey Negro,
Black Sheep,
The Techniques,
The Fortunes,
Con Funk Shun,
The Kinks,
DJ Style,
Eddi Front,
Barry Ungar,
Joe Finger,
Man Eating Sloth,
Bootsy Collins,
Lakeside,
Outsiders,
Aswad,
New York Dolls,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Unrelated Segments,
The Black Dice,
X-Ray Spex,
Radiohead,
The Index,
Minnie Riperton,
Arthur Verocai,
Moebius,
Vainqueur,
Roy Ayers,
Dead Boys,
Theoretical Girls,
OOIOO,
T. Rex,
Schoolly D,
Tears for Fears,
Connie Case,
the Fania All-Stars,
Massinfluence,
Kurtis Blow,
Visage,
Darondo, Darondo, Darondo, Darondo.
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.