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 Honduras and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Johannesburg.
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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Crispian St. Peters to the disco 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 Stiv Bators. All the underground hits.
All Man Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Silicon Teens 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Misunderstood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kerrie Biddell,
Ralphi Rosario,
Cybotron,
Magma,
Tom Boy,
Dorothy Ashby,
Kas Product,
Soft Cell,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Shadows of Knight,
the Bar-Kays,
Blake Baxter,
Electric Prunes,
Black Bananas,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Remains,
Arthur Verocai,
The Star Department,
Erykah Badu,
Sarah Menescal,
Eric Copeland,
The Modern Lovers,
Flamin' Groovies,
Saccharine Trust,
The Knickerbockers,
China Crisis,
Robert Görl,
Arcadia,
Make Up,
The Stooges,
The Victims,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
John Coltrane,
Harpers Bizarre,
Delon & Dalcan,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Stereo Dub,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Velvet Underground,
Crooked Eye,
Loose Ends,
Scott Walker,
Talk Talk,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Boz Scaggs,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Gang Gang Dance,
Bill Near,
Excepter,
48th St. Collective,
Brothers Johnson,
Mars,
Thee Headcoats,
JFA,
Sister Nancy,
Freddie Wadling,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Pantaleimon,
Pet Shop Boys,
Public Enemy,
Ronnie Foster,
T. Rex,
AZ,
Yaz, Yaz, Yaz, Yaz.
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.