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 Bulgaria and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Crooked Eye to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft. All the underground hits.
All Lungfish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Johnny Osbourne 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 a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Malaria!,
Lee Hazlewood,
Easy Going,
Infiniti,
Joyce Sims,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Minny Pops,
Whodini,
Lower 48,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Mummies,
H. Thieme,
The Gun Club,
Motorama,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Move,
Roy Ayers,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Howard Jones,
Frankie Knuckles,
Marmalade,
Sexual Harrassment,
Buzzcocks,
Wings,
Angry Samoans,
Cymande,
The Pretty Things,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
T.S.O.L.,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Roger Hodgson,
48th St. Collective,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Pussy Galore,
Amon Düül,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
ABC,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Desert Stars,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Rekid,
The Beau Brummels,
Mo-Dettes,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Traffic Nightmare,
Sarah Menescal,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Das Ding,
Eden Ahbez,
Index,
Soft Cell,
Alphaville,
The Seeds,
Heaven 17,
Brand Nubian,
Jacques Brel,
Banda Bassotti,
The Techniques,
Gastr Del Sol,
Minnie Riperton,
Bill Wells,
Toni Rubio, Toni Rubio, Toni Rubio, Toni Rubio.
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.