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 Bhutan and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Knickerbockers to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Aural Exciters. All the underground hits.
All Mars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every LL Cool J record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 an organ and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brass Construction record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spandau Ballet,
Bush Tetras,
Yaz,
Flamin' Groovies,
K-Klass,
the Human League,
Severed Heads,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Model 500,
The Move,
Max Romeo,
ABBA,
Gabor Szabo,
a-ha,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
La Düsseldorf,
Ultimate Spinach,
John Coltrane,
the Sonics,
Deepchord,
Banda Bassotti,
Index,
UT,
the Normal,
The American Breed,
Crispian St. Peters,
Joe Smooth,
Suicide,
Easy Going,
Tommy Roe,
Dawn Penn,
Rapeman,
Marshall Jefferson,
Pussy Galore,
Susan Cadogan,
Derrick May,
David McCallum,
Byron Stingily,
Althea and Donna,
Gerry Rafferty,
Ossler,
Rhythm & Sound,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Dorothy Ashby,
EPMD,
Soul Sonic Force,
the Association,
Harpers Bizarre,
Ituana,
KRS-One,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Ludus,
Jimmy McGriff,
Main Source,
Shuggie Otis,
The Smoke,
John Foxx,
The Residents,
Altered Images,
The Blues Magoos,
Marvin Gaye, Marvin Gaye, Marvin Gaye, Marvin Gaye.
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.