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 Burundi and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 marimba 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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme to the electroclash 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 Severed Heads. All the underground hits.
All Sad Lovers and Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every LL Cool J record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Searchers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ituana,
The American Breed,
Marc Almond,
D'Angelo,
Joey Negro,
Delon & Dalcan,
B.T. Express,
Nick Fraelich,
X-Ray Spex,
Lucky Dragons,
The Flesh Eaters,
Bad Manners,
The Angels of Light,
Public Image Ltd.,
Dark Day,
Kerrie Biddell,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Lou Reed,
Bill Wells,
Joensuu 1685,
Reuben Wilson,
Bobby Byrd,
Lindisfarne,
The Trojans,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Deadbeat,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
MC5,
Model 500,
The Gories,
Fela Kuti,
Stetsasonic,
Camouflage,
T.S.O.L.,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Al Stewart,
Talk Talk,
Gerry Rafferty,
Country Teasers,
Blancmange,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Barracudas,
Alphaville,
H. Thieme,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Flipper,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Franke,
The Zeros,
Quando Quango,
The Wake,
F. McDonald,
Cheater Slicks,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Robert Görl,
New York Dolls,
Henry Cow,
Scientists,
Siglo XX,
Aloha Tigers,
Matthew Bourne,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux, Lizzy Mercier Descloux, Lizzy Mercier Descloux, Lizzy Mercier Descloux.
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.