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 Andorra and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 Gerry Rafferty to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Glenn Branca. All the underground hits.
All Gabor Szabo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Davy DMX record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dirtbombs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Names,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Divine Comedy,
Wally Richardson,
The Real Kids,
Pere Ubu,
David McCallum,
Mad Mike,
Echospace,
Heaven 17,
The Fortunes,
Lakeside,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Mr. Review,
Soul II Soul,
Wire,
X-102,
Donald Byrd,
Hasil Adkins,
The Gun Club,
Marcia Griffiths,
Fad Gadget,
Minnie Riperton,
Public Enemy,
Delta 5,
The Offenders,
Zero Boys,
Joyce Sims,
Terry Callier,
Black Pus,
The Red Krayola,
Quantec,
Ornette Coleman,
Yusef Lateef,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Pantytec,
Ice-T,
Joe Smooth,
Ronan,
John Lydon,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Dead C,
Gastr Del Sol,
Godley & Creme,
Livin' Joy,
Babytalk,
Unrelated Segments,
Alice Coltrane,
Ronnie Foster,
Mantronix,
Albert Ayler,
Cheater Slicks,
The Alarm Clocks,
Soulsonic Force,
Terrestrial Tones,
The J.B.'s,
MDC,
Black Bananas,
Ten City,
The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers.
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.