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 Cameroon and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Cluster to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Aaron Thompson. All the underground hits.
All Ten City tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Maurizio record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barbara Tucker record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
Little Man,
Crime,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Roxette,
Amon Düül,
Bill Near,
Dual Sessions,
Wally Richardson,
Mission of Burma,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Mummies,
Juan Atkins,
The Leaves,
Sound Behaviour,
FM Einheit,
Kaleidoscope,
Pet Shop Boys,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Popol Vuh,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Names,
Steve Hackett,
Bobby Byrd,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Monks,
Bang On A Can,
Jeff Lynne,
Negative Approach,
Nick Fraelich,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Gerry Rafferty,
The New Christs,
Drive Like Jehu,
Eli Mardock,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Neon Judgement,
Quantec,
Warsaw,
Sällskapet,
Matthew Bourne,
Danielle Patucci,
Guru Guru,
World's Most,
Trumans Water,
Big Daddy Kane,
Fugazi,
Model 500,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Kinks,
X-102,
The Happenings,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Audionom,
Saccharine Trust,
The Skatalites,
Q65,
Minor Threat,
The United States of America,
John Coltrane,
The Dead C,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson.
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.