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 Kuwait and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 clarinet 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 Ultramagnetic MC's to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 D'Angelo. All the underground hits.
All Jacob Miller tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 48th St. Collective record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 mellotron and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fad Gadget record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Second Layer,
The Gories,
DNA,
Harmonia,
The Mummies,
The Electric Prunes,
Sandy B,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Hasil Adkins,
Barclay James Harvest,
Monks,
Banda Bassotti,
Arcadia,
Lou Christie,
Ituana,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Scrapy,
Ralphi Rosario,
Robert Hood,
Marmalade,
Sex Pistols,
Can,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Echospace,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
OOIOO,
The Birthday Party,
Jandek,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Gichy Dan,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Albert Ayler,
The Gladiators,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Bang On A Can,
Drexciya,
Todd Rundgren,
Roxette,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Rosa Yemen,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Lalann,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Soft Machine,
Tropical Tobacco,
Boz Scaggs,
Sam Rivers,
Das Ding,
Tim Buckley,
Malaria!,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Dirtbombs,
Ohio Players,
Saccharine Trust,
Joey Negro,
Young Marble Giants,
Stockholm Monsters,
L. Decosne,
Steve Hackett,
Rapeman,
Suburban Knight,
Mr. Review,
T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex.
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.