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 Turkmenistan and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Stiv Bators to the crunk 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 Rites of Spring. All the underground hits.
All Archie Shepp tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roxy Music record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a linndrum 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 harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fela Kuti,
Dennis Brown,
Wolf Eyes,
Sixth Finger,
Japan,
The Blackbyrds,
Mantronix,
Bobby Sherman,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Selecter,
Marmalade,
The Gun Club,
Kenny Larkin,
Crash Course in Science,
The Monks,
Excepter,
Little Man,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Brand Nubian,
Unrelated Segments,
the Germs,
Scott Walker,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Max Romeo,
The Stooges,
Dual Sessions,
The Move,
The American Breed,
Morten Harket,
Depeche Mode,
Adolescents,
Con Funk Shun,
Faraquet,
Pagans,
Bobby Byrd,
Pet Shop Boys,
Andrew Hill,
Funkadelic,
Rosa Yemen,
X-101,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Prince Buster,
The Sonics,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Marshall Jefferson,
T.S.O.L.,
Bobby Womack,
Brass Construction,
The Gap Band,
Dawn Penn,
Agent Orange,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Danielle Patucci,
Glambeats Corp.,
Mars,
June Days,
Slave,
Joy Division,
The Young Rascals,
Gichy Dan,
Wasted Youth,
Gastr Del Sol,
Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!.
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.