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 Costa Rica and from Manchester.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 clarinet 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 Marmalade to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Leonard Cohen. All the underground hits.
All Hasil Adkins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Freddie Wadling record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pere Ubu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scientists,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Detroit Cobras,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Chris Corsano,
Marine Girls,
Harpers Bizarre,
Hot Snakes,
EPMD,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Radio Birdman,
Excepter,
Bluetip,
The Human League,
Interpol,
Roxy Music,
Quadrant,
The Monks,
Nas,
T. Rex,
Thompson Twins,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Blossom Toes,
Moebius,
Deepchord,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
the Normal,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Barracudas,
Shoche,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
John Lydon,
The Kinks,
Main Source,
New York Dolls,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Television,
Moss Icon,
Funkadelic,
Altered Images,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Alison Limerick,
Agent Orange,
Black Moon,
Slick Rick,
The Stooges,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Kerri Chandler,
Khruangbin,
Amon Düül,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Rakim,
Sexual Harrassment,
Eric Copeland,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Mummies,
Magma,
Suburban Knight,
Zero Boys,
Black Pus,
Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore.
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.