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 France and from Madrid.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and London.
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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Model 500 to the funk 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 kango's stein massive. All the underground hits.
All Yaz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Desert Stars 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cybotron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Inner City,
Animal Collective,
Bad Manners,
Camberwell Now,
Minnie Riperton,
Mr. Review,
New Age Steppers,
David Axelrod,
8 Eyed Spy,
Heaven 17,
The Toasters,
Clear Light,
Girls At Our Best!,
Archie Shepp,
Simply Red,
Ituana,
Ludus,
The Martian,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Minutemen,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Groovy Waters,
Avey Tare,
Ken Boothe,
Agent Orange,
The Real Kids,
Main Source,
Con Funk Shun,
H. Thieme,
Ronan,
Funky Four + One,
The Birthday Party,
MDC,
Masters at Work,
Agitation Free,
U.S. Maple,
Spandau Ballet,
Adolescents,
Idris Muhammad,
Lower 48,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
A Flock of Seagulls,
X-Ray Spex,
Hashim,
Symarip,
Das Ding,
Black Bananas,
Grauzone,
Wasted Youth,
The Barracudas,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Don Cherry,
Steve Hackett,
Ultravox,
The Index,
Accadde A,
The Black Dice,
Amon Düül II,
The Cramps,
Tommy Roe,
These Immortal Souls,
Pagans,
Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters.
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.