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 Seychelles and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 harpsichord 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 Motorama to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Raincoats. All the underground hits.
All Newcleus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nation of Ulysses 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joy Division record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Masters at Work,
Mark Hollis,
The Searchers,
B.T. Express,
Reuben Wilson,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Darondo,
Crispy Ambulance,
Lebanon Hanover,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Doobie Brothers,
Suburban Knight,
Wire,
Oblivians,
Unwound,
The Moleskins,
David Bowie,
Jawbox,
Man Eating Sloth,
Delta 5,
Bobby Byrd,
Wally Richardson,
The Neon Judgement,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Knickerbockers,
The Alarm Clocks,
Organ,
Symarip,
Warsaw,
Sonny Sharrock,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Monks,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
In Retrospect,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Mantronix,
Fela Kuti,
Black Sheep,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Marc Almond,
AZ,
Vladislav Delay,
Gerry Rafferty,
Johnny Osbourne,
MDC,
The J.B.'s,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Pantaleimon,
Ultra Naté,
Barry Ungar,
John Coltrane,
Camberwell Now,
Matthew Halsall,
The Gladiators,
The Real Kids,
The Offenders,
Derrick May,
The Angels of Light,
U.S. Maple,
Joensuu 1685,
the Swans,
Loose Ends,
Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims.
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.