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 Mongolia and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Radio Birdman to the crunk 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 Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All Country Teasers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Sheep 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hardrive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Letta Mbulu,
The Misunderstood,
Ultra Naté,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Electric Prunes,
Mr. Review,
JFA,
Juan Atkins,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Last Poets,
Camouflage,
Camberwell Now,
Y Pants,
Brass Construction,
Inner City,
Ultravox,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Mo-Dettes,
Lou Reed,
Eden Ahbez,
Gabor Szabo,
The Sound,
Max Romeo,
Anthony Braxton,
Stiv Bators,
Lebanon Hanover,
Delta 5,
The Invisible,
Boogie Down Productions,
Crooked Eye,
The Smiths,
The Dave Clark Five,
Rufus Thomas,
Al Stewart,
Cluster,
The Gun Club,
Minor Threat,
Faraquet,
Marine Girls,
The Martian,
Jerry's Kids,
AZ,
Suicide,
Nico,
The Cramps,
The Monochrome Set,
Spandau Ballet,
F. McDonald,
Tomorrow,
Franke,
Urselle,
Curtis Mayfield,
Gil Scott Heron,
Interpol,
Iggy Pop,
Boredoms,
Tim Buckley,
Flamin' Groovies,
Mandrill,
Susan Cadogan,
Terry Callier,
Black Sheep,
Fat Boys,
Royal Trux,
Visage, Visage, Visage, Visage.
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.