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 Ivory Coast and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 Johannesburg and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 organ 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 The Gories to the funk 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 Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane. All the underground hits.
All Country Joe & The Fish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Little Man record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minutemen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terrestrial Tones,
The Monks,
Duran Duran,
Kayak,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Average White Band,
X-101,
Kaleidoscope,
Steve Hackett,
Fat Boys,
H. Thieme,
Suicide,
Erykah Badu,
Marcia Griffiths,
Joensuu 1685,
Leonard Cohen,
Judy Mowatt,
Amon Düül II,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Gong,
K-Klass,
Cluster,
Delta 5,
Ponytail,
The Gladiators,
The Associates,
David Bowie,
Severed Heads,
Drive Like Jehu,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Big Daddy Kane,
Curtis Mayfield,
Yusef Lateef,
New Order,
DJ Sneak,
The Evens,
The Doors,
The Gories,
Funkadelic,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Searchers,
Moss Icon,
Television,
Arcadia,
The Misunderstood,
Harry Pussy,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Pantytec,
Slave,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Sister Nancy,
Skaos,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
June of 44,
Ten City,
Vainqueur,
Camouflage,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Ken Boothe,
The Cure,
R.M.O.,
Aloha Tigers, Aloha Tigers, Aloha Tigers, Aloha Tigers.
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.