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 El Salvador and from Philadelphia.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Stetsasonic 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 DJ Sneak. All the underground hits.
All EPMD tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Freddie Wadling 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scrapy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Sonics,
Marine Girls,
Cal Tjader,
Toni Rubio,
John Coltrane,
David Bowie,
Junior Murvin,
Simply Red,
Oblivians,
Kayak,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Niagra,
Roxy Music,
Khruangbin,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Skarface,
Mandrill,
Barclay James Harvest,
Cameo,
Jacob Miller,
Wolf Eyes,
In Retrospect,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
X-101,
Brass Construction,
48th St. Collective,
Joe Smooth,
The Seeds,
Lou Christie,
The Black Dice,
Stockholm Monsters,
the Fania All-Stars,
Kaleidoscope,
X-Ray Spex,
Angry Samoans,
The Litter,
Leonard Cohen,
Tom Boy,
Bill Near,
The Monks,
Drexciya,
Shuggie Otis,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
KRS-One,
Soulsonic Force,
Q and Not U,
Con Funk Shun,
Barbara Tucker,
DNA,
Laurel Aitken,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Tubeway Army,
Scion,
Joe Finger,
Steve Hackett,
The Music Machine,
The Shadows of Knight,
Hot Snakes,
Mad Mike,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
New Order,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
a-ha, a-ha, a-ha, a-ha.
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.