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 Japan and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 chamberlin 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 Slick Rick to the rap 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 Kango’s Stein Massive. All the underground hits.
All Motorama tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Desert Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a EPMD record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Sneak,
Graham Central Station,
Crime,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
JFA,
Rod Modell,
Todd Rundgren,
Malaria!,
Delta 5,
the Sonics,
Quantec,
Eric Copeland,
Scion,
the Bar-Kays,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Moody Blues,
Pet Shop Boys,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Qualms,
H. Thieme,
Kayak,
Bobby Sherman,
Harry Pussy,
Grey Daturas,
Howard Jones,
Can,
Crispian St. Peters,
Robert Hood,
Maurizio,
Porter Ricks,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Little Man,
Donald Byrd,
Archie Shepp,
Roger Hodgson,
Soft Cell,
Negative Approach,
The Techniques,
Crash Course in Science,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Minutemen,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Unrelated Segments,
Sister Nancy,
Iggy Pop,
Mars,
Guru Guru,
Loose Ends,
Crooked Eye,
Bronski Beat,
The Gladiators,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Avey Tare,
Marmalade,
Byron Stingily,
Todd Terry,
Section 25,
Average White Band,
Urselle,
Cluster,
10cc, 10cc, 10cc, 10cc.
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.