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 Brazil and from New York.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 James White and The Blacks to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Bizarre Inc.. All the underground hits.
All N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blossom Toes 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sun Ra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Shoche,
Tim Buckley,
48th St. Collective,
The Divine Comedy,
Ornette Coleman,
Smog,
Technova,
Deakin,
Kas Product,
Black Moon,
Lee Hazlewood,
June of 44,
Derrick Morgan,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Echospace,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Derrick May,
Agitation Free,
Duran Duran,
The Mojo Men,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
8 Eyed Spy,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Spandau Ballet,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
New Age Steppers,
Eddi Front,
kango's stein massive,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Mary Jane Girls,
Henry Cow,
John Cale,
Aural Exciters,
Desert Stars,
Amazonics,
Main Source,
Bluetip,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Soft Cell,
Cybotron,
Loose Ends,
Traffic Nightmare,
Khruangbin,
Guru Guru,
Moss Icon,
the Germs,
Das Ding,
Ice-T,
The Star Department,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Birthday Party,
Howard Jones,
Royal Trux,
Bush Tetras,
Can,
Skriet, Skriet, Skriet, Skriet.
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.