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 Syria and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 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 Flipper to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Eric B and Rakim. All the underground hits.
All D'Angelo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The J.B.'s record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultra Naté record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Electric Light Orchestra,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
X-Ray Spex,
Urselle,
Porter Ricks,
Niagra,
Laurel Aitken,
Loose Ends,
Silicon Teens,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
the Sonics,
Alphaville,
Black Sheep,
Amon Düül,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Moody Blues,
Terry Callier,
Flipper,
Big Daddy Kane,
Kurtis Blow,
Kaleidoscope,
Amazonics,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
John Foxx,
Agent Orange,
World's Most,
Cluster,
Interpol,
Goldenarms,
Slave,
ABC,
T. Rex,
Black Bananas,
Easy Going,
Symarip,
Thee Headcoats,
kango's stein massive,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Al Stewart,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Rites of Spring,
Anthony Braxton,
Grauzone,
The Black Dice,
The Gories,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Harry Pussy,
Stiv Bators,
Young Marble Giants,
Archie Shepp,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Minny Pops,
Average White Band,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
cv313,
Sister Nancy,
Brothers Johnson,
Radiohead,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Alison Limerick,
The Toasters,
Sugar Minott,
Terrestrial Tones,
Mars, Mars, Mars, Mars.
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.