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 Turkey and from Taipei.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Bobby Byrd to the punk 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 Sixth Finger. All the underground hits.
All The Detroit Cobras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Parry Music record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 synthesizer and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Red Krayola record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Adolescents,
The Dead C,
Minny Pops,
Byron Stingily,
The Selecter,
Eurythmics,
Charles Mingus,
Bronski Beat,
The Wake,
The Doors,
Eli Mardock,
Mr. Review,
Liliput,
Susan Cadogan,
The Knickerbockers,
Con Funk Shun,
Moby Grape,
Joyce Sims,
Arab on Radar,
The Remains,
Yellowson,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Cal Tjader,
Alphaville,
Mo-Dettes,
Schoolly D,
Royal Trux,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Mummies,
Gong,
Ultra Naté,
Mark Hollis,
Jacques Brel,
Lyres,
The Beau Brummels,
Erasure,
D'Angelo,
David McCallum,
Black Bananas,
The Five Americans,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Danielle Patucci,
Blossom Toes,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Fuzztones,
David Bowie,
Accadde A,
Livin' Joy,
The Gories,
Sarah Menescal,
Fela Kuti,
Marmalade,
Cluster,
Gabor Szabo,
Pantytec,
Pylon,
KRS-One,
the Fania All-Stars,
Quando Quango,
The Young Rascals,
Aswad, Aswad, Aswad, Aswad.
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.