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 Greece and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 David Bowie 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 Donny Hathaway to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 T.S.O.L.. All the underground hits.
All Nik Kershaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lebanon Hanover record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Heaven 17 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minny Pops,
The Motions,
Cluster,
Tom Boy,
The Evens,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Pretty Things,
Blossom Toes,
Peter & Gordon,
Bobby Hutcherson,
James White and The Blacks,
Yaz,
Gang of Four,
Quantec,
Davy DMX,
Traffic Nightmare,
Adolescents,
Desert Stars,
Bluetip,
Peter and Kerry,
Sonny Sharrock,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Alarm Clocks,
Jandek,
Stockholm Monsters,
Con Funk Shun,
Lou Reed,
Franke,
Brand Nubian,
Brothers Johnson,
Skarface,
Kaleidoscope,
Skriet,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Sexual Harrassment,
Youth Brigade,
8 Eyed Spy,
K-Klass,
Livin' Joy,
Robert Hood,
Public Enemy,
Mary Jane Girls,
Patti Smith,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Names,
Kevin Saunderson,
Crime,
ABC,
John Lydon,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Red Krayola,
The Gories,
Pussy Galore,
David McCallum,
Faraquet,
Deakin,
Grey Daturas,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Spandau Ballet,
Michelle Simonal,
Japan,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Mummies,
Fear, Fear, Fear, Fear.
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.