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 Belgium and from New York.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 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 Beasts of Bourbon to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Kinks. All the underground hits.
All Jacob Miller tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Bananas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Niagra,
The Neon Judgement,
Grandmaster Flash,
Blake Baxter,
The Monks,
The Star Department,
Harmonia,
Letta Mbulu,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Kinks,
Jeff Lynne,
Echospace,
Lightning Bolt,
Ituana,
Jerry's Kids,
Intrusion,
Sixth Finger,
The Music Machine,
The Angels of Light,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Ralphi Rosario,
Pole,
Erykah Badu,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Electric Prunes,
Pierre Henry,
Average White Band,
Leonard Cohen,
Public Enemy,
The Victims,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Invisible,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Alice Coltrane,
The Trojans,
David Axelrod,
kango's stein massive,
Erasure,
The Barracudas,
Donald Byrd,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Roger Hodgson,
Surgeon,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Red Krayola,
Unwound,
Zapp,
Scratch Acid,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Massinfluence,
Outsiders,
Au Pairs,
Crash Course in Science,
Malaria!,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
The Zeros,
Man Parrish,
Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring.
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.