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 Rwanda and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Stockholm.
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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Mad Mike to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Cameo. All the underground hits.
All One Last Wish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oblivians record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monolake,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Chris Corsano,
Brass Construction,
Quantec,
Metal Thangz,
8 Eyed Spy,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Robert Hood,
Zero Boys,
B.T. Express,
MDC,
Gang Gang Dance,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Bizarre Inc.,
Bobby Sherman,
The Star Department,
Intrusion,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Black Sheep,
Barrington Levy,
Kurtis Blow,
The Sonics,
Junior Murvin,
Davy DMX,
The Associates,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Five Americans,
The Gun Club,
The Residents,
Sexual Harrassment,
Sparks,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Tim Buckley,
The Fortunes,
Bush Tetras,
Aaron Thompson,
Y Pants,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Sound,
Joey Negro,
Symarip,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Jeff Lynne,
Brand Nubian,
Dead Boys,
The Dirtbombs,
Guru Guru,
Cheater Slicks,
Con Funk Shun,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Lee Hazlewood,
U.S. Maple,
Girls At Our Best!,
Jerry Gold Smith,
John Foxx,
Depeche Mode,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins.
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.