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 Vietnam and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Excepter to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Skriet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mr. Review 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a B.T. Express record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Barracudas,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Matthew Halsall,
The Remains,
Brass Construction,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Jacques Brel,
Cymande,
Wings,
Crash Course in Science,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Second Layer,
Charles Mingus,
Wire,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
K-Klass,
The Cure,
The Divine Comedy,
Davy DMX,
Alton Ellis,
Fad Gadget,
China Crisis,
Model 500,
PIL,
Black Flag,
Amazonics,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Busters,
The Real Kids,
Josef K,
Agent Orange,
Matthew Bourne,
Kerrie Biddell,
Carl Craig,
Rapeman,
Suicide,
The Cosmic Jokers,
the Slits,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Monks,
The Velvet Underground,
Warsaw,
Anakelly,
Procol Harum,
a-ha,
Cluster,
DNA,
Oblivians,
Sun Ra,
Au Pairs,
Don Cherry,
the Association,
Saccharine Trust,
Traffic Nightmare,
Ponytail,
Ice-T,
The Walker Brothers,
Visage,
KRS-One,
Urselle, Urselle, Urselle, Urselle.
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.