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 Dominica and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 clarinet 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 X-101 to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 A Certain Ratio. All the underground hits.
All Echo & the Bunnymen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Todd Rundgren record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 New York Dolls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cybotron,
the Fania All-Stars,
KRS-One,
Subhumans,
Anakelly,
Stockholm Monsters,
Rites of Spring,
Loose Ends,
June Days,
U.S. Maple,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Gichy Dan,
The Blues Magoos,
Robert Görl,
Inner City,
Lou Reed,
Barrington Levy,
Fatback Band,
The Smiths,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Talk Talk,
Ultimate Spinach,
Cecil Taylor,
Metal Thangz,
Lower 48,
Pantytec,
Sällskapet,
Charles Mingus,
The Count Five,
a-ha,
Dennis Brown,
Blancmange,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Lindisfarne,
Warsaw,
Iggy Pop,
Erykah Badu,
Adolescents,
Zapp,
Q65,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Kas Product,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Sexual Harrassment,
China Crisis,
Brothers Johnson,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Toasters,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Matthew Halsall,
Zero Boys,
Minutemen,
Section 25,
Absolute Body Control,
Sam Rivers,
Depeche Mode,
James White and The Blacks,
Main Source,
The Flesh Eaters,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
B.T. Express,
The Busters,
D'Angelo, D'Angelo, D'Angelo, D'Angelo.
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.