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 Maldives and from Seoul.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 spring reverb 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 Fifty Foot Hose to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 MDC. All the underground hits.
All The Pop Group tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lafayette Afro Rock Band 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dorothy Ashby record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monks,
Amon Düül,
The Buckinghams,
the Slits,
The Gun Club,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Mars,
Guru Guru,
Mr. Review,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Thee Headcoats,
Intrusion,
The Slits,
Big Daddy Kane,
Gang Gang Dance,
Ralphi Rosario,
Man Parrish,
Ken Boothe,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Absolute Body Control,
Kayak,
FM Einheit,
John Coltrane,
Eli Mardock,
Tres Demented,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Fela Kuti,
Sister Nancy,
John Foxx,
Rhythm & Sound,
Pagans,
Fad Gadget,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Black Bananas,
Los Fastidios,
Fatback Band,
Sonny Sharrock,
Althea and Donna,
Wolf Eyes,
The Tremeloes,
Q and Not U,
Spoonie Gee,
Al Stewart,
Rekid,
The Slackers,
Skaos,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Quando Quango,
The Star Department,
Minor Threat,
The Shadows of Knight,
Sly & The Family Stone,
New Order,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Marine Girls,
Stetsasonic,
Unwound,
Albert Ayler,
E-Dancer,
X-101,
Eric Copeland,
Sparks,
Leonard Cohen,
Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai.
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.