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 Botswana and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 arpeggiator 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 In Retrospect to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Banda Bassotti. All the underground hits.
All The Names tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Electric Light Orchestra 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ajijia Myrayebe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Susan Cadogan,
Rufus Thomas,
Gang Green,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Funkadelic,
X-101,
Mantronix,
The Dead C,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Marshall Jefferson,
Girls At Our Best!,
Bauhaus,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Bizarre Inc.,
Gang Starr,
Deakin,
Heaven 17,
Marine Girls,
Eden Ahbez,
The Pretty Things,
The Fuzztones,
Gregory Isaacs,
Harry Pussy,
Dawn Penn,
Guru Guru,
Angry Samoans,
the Normal,
Babytalk,
Gil Scott Heron,
Bush Tetras,
Motorama,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Raincoats,
B.T. Express,
Con Funk Shun,
Soul II Soul,
Cybotron,
Funky Four + One,
Wasted Youth,
The Gladiators,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Jerry's Kids,
The Associates,
Make Up,
Monks,
Bob Dylan,
Dead Boys,
Fugazi,
The Stooges,
Joe Smooth,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Jacob Miller,
Gang Gang Dance,
Desert Stars,
Bobby Byrd,
John Coltrane,
Amazonics,
Maurizio,
Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre.
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.