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 Kiribati and from Calgary.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Erasure to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Pagans. All the underground hits.
All The Pretty Things tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lafayette Afro Rock Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Livin' Joy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Doobie Brothers,
Bluetip,
Ossler,
Swans,
The Litter,
Shoche,
The Dave Clark Five,
Crispy Ambulance,
This Heat,
Terrestrial Tones,
Electric Light Orchestra,
B.T. Express,
Glenn Branca,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Selecter,
Fat Boys,
Kayak,
Khruangbin,
Clear Light,
Pet Shop Boys,
Kevin Saunderson,
Quando Quango,
X-101,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Carl Craig,
Laurel Aitken,
FM Einheit,
Vainqueur,
Peter and Kerry,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
cv313,
The Dead C,
Delta 5,
Lyres,
The Misunderstood,
Nils Olav,
Reuben Wilson,
Bill Wells,
Eli Mardock,
Make Up,
Rod Modell,
Sugar Minott,
Eurythmics,
The Kinks,
Andrew Hill,
Silicon Teens,
New York Dolls,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Rufus Thomas,
Visage,
Country Teasers,
Byron Stingily,
The Last Poets,
Sister Nancy,
Talk Talk,
Sällskapet,
John Lydon,
Easy Going,
Jimmy McGriff,
Kerrie Biddell,
Sonic Youth,
Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls.
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.