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 Australia and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 snare 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 Jimmy McGriff to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx. All the underground hits.
All Strawberry Alarm Clock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Copeland record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cybotron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Graham Central Station,
The Moody Blues,
The Golliwogs,
OOIOO,
Pole,
Johnny Clarke,
Barclay James Harvest,
Symarip,
Aural Exciters,
Surgeon,
David Bowie,
Pulsallama,
U.S. Maple,
Pet Shop Boys,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Barracudas,
Brick,
Procol Harum,
Parry Music,
Lungfish,
Clear Light,
Harry Pussy,
10cc,
Bronski Beat,
The Five Americans,
Bootsy Collins,
The Motions,
Trumans Water,
The Blackbyrds,
Terrestrial Tones,
Qualms,
Beasts of Bourbon,
In Retrospect,
Simply Red,
James Chance & The Contortions,
cv313,
Fugazi,
Lightning Bolt,
Terry Callier,
Jerry's Kids,
Sonny Sharrock,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
EPMD,
the Normal,
Jandek,
Black Bananas,
Deadbeat,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The United States of America,
MDC,
Dark Day,
Fat Boys,
Max Romeo,
Lou Christie,
Crooked Eye,
Johnny Osbourne,
Erasure,
Young Marble Giants,
Blossom Toes,
KRS-One,
Massinfluence,
Severed Heads,
Leonard Cohen, Leonard Cohen, Leonard Cohen, Leonard Cohen.
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.