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 Djibouti and from Bologna.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Vainqueur to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Cramps. All the underground hits.
All Gary Puckett & The Union Gap tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Banda Bassotti 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barry Ungar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quantec,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Todd Rundgren,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Kerrie Biddell,
Animal Collective,
Erykah Badu,
Aswad,
Radio Birdman,
Pussy Galore,
H. Thieme,
Chrome,
Johnny Clarke,
One Last Wish,
The Busters,
The Black Dice,
Cybotron,
Sarah Menescal,
The Vogues,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Remains,
Echospace,
The Golliwogs,
Tropical Tobacco,
48th St. Collective,
Gerry Rafferty,
Mission of Burma,
Rhythm & Sound,
U.S. Maple,
Danielle Patucci,
Drexciya,
Archie Shepp,
Jandek,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
In Retrospect,
Eddi Front,
Freddie Wadling,
DJ Style,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Terrestrial Tones,
Maleditus Sound,
Ultravox,
Donald Byrd,
Bobby Byrd,
Howard Jones,
Warren Ellis,
Mars,
The Moody Blues,
Soft Machine,
Porter Ricks,
Jerry's Kids,
The Durutti Column,
Derrick May,
Neil Young,
KRS-One,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Intrusion,
Amon Düül,
Glenn Branca,
Sun Ra,
Brass Construction,
Country Teasers,
Motorama, Motorama, Motorama, Motorama.
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.