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 South Sudan and from Salvador.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 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 the Bar-Kays to the grime 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 Agent Orange. All the underground hits.
All Peter & Gordon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Royal Trux 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masters at Work record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Duran Duran,
Simply Red,
Morten Harket,
The Stooges,
Technova,
Carl Craig,
Faraquet,
Make Up,
Scientists,
Bush Tetras,
The Remains,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Don Cherry,
Cameo,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Fad Gadget,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Tim Buckley,
Magma,
Andrew Hill,
Ultravox,
Arcadia,
D'Angelo,
Bronski Beat,
Ituana,
Curtis Mayfield,
Sun Ra,
Ken Boothe,
The Mojo Men,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Monochrome Set,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Newcleus,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Whodini,
Kaleidoscope,
U.S. Maple,
Zapp,
These Immortal Souls,
Henry Cow,
Derrick Morgan,
Janne Schatter,
Suburban Knight,
Motorama,
The Cowsills,
Severed Heads,
Eric B and Rakim,
Essential Logic,
Soulsonic Force,
The Birthday Party,
Dave Gahan,
Crooked Eye,
Godley & Creme,
Sarah Menescal,
Lee Hazlewood,
Agitation Free,
The Slackers,
Frankie Knuckles,
Flash Fearless,
UT,
Buzzcocks,
Section 25,
Aswad, Aswad, Aswad, Aswad.
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.