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 Montenegro and from London.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Sly & The Family Stone to the punk 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 Saccharine Trust. All the underground hits.
All The Searchers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sonic Youth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gladiators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harry Pussy,
The Monochrome Set,
Pussy Galore,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Eric Copeland,
New York Dolls,
Lalo Schifrin,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Chrome,
Ken Boothe,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Real Kids,
Rapeman,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
La Düsseldorf,
Flamin' Groovies,
Ronnie Foster,
Alison Limerick,
Davy DMX,
Cameo,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Adolescents,
Black Moon,
The Durutti Column,
The Golliwogs,
Eric Dolphy,
Moss Icon,
Newcleus,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Divine Comedy,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Agent Orange,
Roxette,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Amon Düül,
The Cowsills,
Judy Mowatt,
Bauhaus,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Darondo,
Albert Ayler,
Marine Girls,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Dave Gahan,
Hoover,
Jawbox,
Aaron Thompson,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Blackbyrds,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Litter,
Amazonics,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Franke,
Mr. Review,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
June of 44,
Joe Smooth,
Big Daddy Kane,
Neu!,
Andrew Hill,
Cybotron, Cybotron, Cybotron, Cybotron.
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.