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 Bangladesh and from Woodstock.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Royal Trux to the disco 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 Public Enemy. All the underground hits.
All The Motions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Agent Orange 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Main Source record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Divine Comedy,
Scion,
Yazoo,
June of 44,
Crispian St. Peters,
Marmalade,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
ABBA,
Public Enemy,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Mad Mike,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Dennis Brown,
Lindisfarne,
Jeff Mills,
Soul II Soul,
Lou Reed,
The Durutti Column,
Kurtis Blow,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Reuben Wilson,
Talk Talk,
Simply Red,
Motorama,
Liliput,
The Invisible,
Neil Young,
Drive Like Jehu,
Josef K,
Bizarre Inc.,
8 Eyed Spy,
Beasts of Bourbon,
the Soft Cell,
Man Parrish,
Man Eating Sloth,
Procol Harum,
Suburban Knight,
Surgeon,
Khruangbin,
Nik Kershaw,
Moss Icon,
L. Decosne,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Moody Blues,
B.T. Express,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Grandmaster Flash,
A Certain Ratio,
Gregory Isaacs,
Rapeman,
Das Ding,
Bluetip,
Juan Atkins,
Black Pus,
Agitation Free,
Mars,
Isaac Hayes,
the Swans,
Oblivians,
Terry Callier,
Duran Duran,
Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish.
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.