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 Bolivia and from Shanghai.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 güiro 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 MC5 to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 X-102. All the underground hits.
All These Immortal Souls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Albert Ayler record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 a guitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Evens record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hot Snakes,
Sällskapet,
Suicide,
Bauhaus,
Bobby Byrd,
Freddie Wadling,
Donny Hathaway,
Main Source,
Traffic Nightmare,
Harpers Bizarre,
Kenny Larkin,
Nico,
H. Thieme,
Hardrive,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
8 Eyed Spy,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Faust,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Alphaville,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Derrick May,
Tommy Roe,
Mandrill,
Magazine,
Underground Resistance,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The New Christs,
Byron Stingily,
Rod Modell,
Aaron Thompson,
The Dead C,
Sun Ra,
Sex Pistols,
Trumans Water,
Connie Case,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Don Cherry,
Shuggie Otis,
B.T. Express,
The Toasters,
Parry Music,
Smog,
The Music Machine,
Joe Finger,
Ituana,
Dave Gahan,
Easy Going,
E-Dancer,
Eden Ahbez,
Quantec,
Flash Fearless,
Das Ding,
This Heat,
Second Layer,
Tomorrow,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Black Bananas,
Roger Hodgson,
Schoolly D,
Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye.
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.