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 San Marino and from Madrid.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Babytalk to the funk 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 Stiv Bators. All the underground hits.
All A Flock of Seagulls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Severed Heads 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lonnie Liston Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The American Breed,
Malaria!,
Magma,
Isaac Hayes,
Godley & Creme,
Aural Exciters,
Marvin Gaye,
Marmalade,
Lou Reed,
The Wake,
Amazonics,
Chris & Cosey,
the Swans,
PIL,
The Leaves,
Franke,
Tears for Fears,
Duran Duran,
Talk Talk,
New Order,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Lyres,
Nas,
Technova,
Blancmange,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Alarm Clocks,
R.M.O.,
Bobby Womack,
The Dead C,
Infiniti,
Icehouse,
The New Christs,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Amon Düül II,
Popol Vuh,
The Divine Comedy,
Black Pus,
Livin' Joy,
Sällskapet,
June Days,
Sugar Minott,
Donny Hathaway,
Max Romeo,
ABC,
D'Angelo,
Loose Ends,
Supertramp,
The Evens,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Au Pairs,
Kenny Larkin,
Spandau Ballet,
The Fall,
Alison Limerick,
The United States of America,
Skaos,
Darondo,
Sixth Finger,
The Sound,
Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins.
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.