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 Azerbaijan and from Manila.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Black Sheep to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme. All the underground hits.
All Funkadelic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Animal Collective record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angry Samoans,
Ralphi Rosario,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Con Funk Shun,
Eric B and Rakim,
Nico,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Seeds,
Terrestrial Tones,
Deepchord,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Isaac Hayes,
Bob Dylan,
Curtis Mayfield,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Patti Smith,
Gang Gang Dance,
Black Sheep,
Traffic Nightmare,
Warsaw,
Harmonia,
Mo-Dettes,
UT,
Quando Quango,
Ossler,
The Selecter,
Supertramp,
Joy Division,
Youth Brigade,
T.S.O.L.,
Reagan Youth,
The Mojo Men,
Talk Talk,
David Bowie,
Ohio Players,
Boz Scaggs,
Marine Girls,
Eurythmics,
Moss Icon,
Radiohead,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Agent Orange,
Lalo Schifrin,
Arthur Verocai,
The Gories,
Minor Threat,
The Standells,
Sparks,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Cure,
Soulsonic Force,
Hoover,
Ultimate Spinach,
Tomorrow,
Brothers Johnson,
Amon Düül,
Aural Exciters,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Velvet Underground,
Metal Thangz,
Faraquet, Faraquet, Faraquet, Faraquet.
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.