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 Romania and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 linndrum 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 Bizarre Inc. to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282. All the underground hits.
All Royal Trux tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crash Course in Science record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Motions record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron 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 Electric Prunes,
Slick Rick,
The Buckinghams,
Scan 7,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Flamin' Groovies,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Darondo,
Make Up,
Susan Cadogan,
Index,
Bronski Beat,
Don Cherry,
Fad Gadget,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Thee Headcoats,
Q and Not U,
Mandrill,
The Smoke,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Fortunes,
Japan,
The Tremeloes,
Sandy B,
Maleditus Sound,
The Fuzztones,
Q65,
Drexciya,
Whodini,
Blake Baxter,
a-ha,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
T. Rex,
Gerry Rafferty,
Deadbeat,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Slits,
Eric Copeland,
The Golliwogs,
Tim Buckley,
Monks,
Warsaw,
Kas Product,
Nils Olav,
Lakeside,
Boredoms,
Black Bananas,
Eli Mardock,
Josef K,
Mr. Review,
Jawbox,
Lou Reed,
Stetsasonic,
Scrapy,
Lebanon Hanover,
Aswad,
The Index,
Sun City Girls,
Black Moon,
JFA,
Roxy Music,
Funkadelic,
Procol Harum,
Jandek, Jandek, Jandek, Jandek.
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.