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 Eritrea and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Cameo to the funk 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 Country Teasers. All the underground hits.
All Lightning Bolt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cameo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
Supertramp,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Judy Mowatt,
Radiohead,
Anthony Braxton,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Move,
Kurtis Blow,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Scion,
Nils Olav,
Inner City,
Roxette,
Glenn Branca,
The Knickerbockers,
Pierre Henry,
Charles Mingus,
The Fuzztones,
Pylon,
Derrick May,
Gang of Four,
June of 44,
The Fortunes,
Boredoms,
Sexual Harrassment,
Outsiders,
Alton Ellis,
Dave Gahan,
Drexciya,
Godley & Creme,
Joyce Sims,
Joey Negro,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Eric B and Rakim,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
a-ha,
Jawbox,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Half Japanese,
Camouflage,
Oneida,
Unrelated Segments,
Davy DMX,
MDC,
The Monks,
Von Mondo,
Jeff Mills,
The Cramps,
The Doors,
Organ,
Wire,
The Motions,
Blancmange,
Toni Rubio,
Deakin,
The Mojo Men,
David Bowie,
Black Moon,
Make Up,
Soft Cell,
Faust,
Lou Reed & John Cale, Lou Reed & John Cale, Lou Reed & John Cale, Lou Reed & John Cale.
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.