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 Comoros and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Star Department to the techno 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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell. All the underground hits.
All Lyres tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-101 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rekid record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Index,
Symarip,
Lee Hazlewood,
Jeff Mills,
The Grass Roots,
Pierre Henry,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Visage,
The Gories,
Siglo XX,
Absolute Body Control,
Duran Duran,
48th St. Collective,
Kevin Saunderson,
the Sonics,
Make Up,
The Young Rascals,
Minnie Riperton,
Urselle,
Suburban Knight,
The New Christs,
Gregory Isaacs,
Peter & Gordon,
Yazoo,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Motions,
Kurtis Blow,
Neu!,
Rufus Thomas,
Donald Byrd,
Donny Hathaway,
The Dead C,
Althea and Donna,
Lyres,
Bizarre Inc.,
The American Breed,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Stereo Dub,
FM Einheit,
Tommy Roe,
Kaleidoscope,
Nik Kershaw,
The Martian,
June Days,
The Count Five,
Crispy Ambulance,
Harry Pussy,
Flash Fearless,
Big Daddy Kane,
Arab on Radar,
Surgeon,
Clear Light,
Groovy Waters,
X-Ray Spex,
Television,
Inner City,
Lightning Bolt,
These Immortal Souls,
Rites of Spring,
Henry Cow,
Mr. Review,
The Sonics,
John Coltrane,
Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station.
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.