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 Benin and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Roy Ayers to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Peanut Butter Conspiracy. All the underground hits.
All Derrick May tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Echospace record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a clarinet 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 marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cameo,
Stockholm Monsters,
Morten Harket,
Crispian St. Peters,
Crispy Ambulance,
Ronan,
Adolescents,
Pulsallama,
Sexual Harrassment,
Pet Shop Boys,
Fat Boys,
Donny Hathaway,
Underground Resistance,
ABBA,
Pylon,
Dorothy Ashby,
Desert Stars,
Zero Boys,
Jeru the Damaja,
Bad Manners,
Rekid,
Boogie Down Productions,
Black Moon,
E-Dancer,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Eddi Front,
Curtis Mayfield,
Loose Ends,
K-Klass,
The Misunderstood,
Aswad,
Ronnie Foster,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Selecter,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Alice Coltrane,
Jimmy McGriff,
Bronski Beat,
Cybotron,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Rod Modell,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Drexciya,
The Moody Blues,
Avey Tare,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Stereo Dub,
Niagra,
Flash Fearless,
Amon Düül II,
Terrestrial Tones,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Buckinghams,
Amazonics,
Malaria!,
Black Flag,
Archie Shepp,
the Sonics,
The Blackbyrds,
CMW,
Blancmange,
Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs.
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.