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 Zambia and from Columbus.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 oboe 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 Skriet to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 DJ Sneak. All the underground hits.
All Rites of Spring tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Erykah Badu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nik Kershaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Black Dice,
T. Rex,
Crispy Ambulance,
T.S.O.L.,
Mantronix,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Television,
Country Teasers,
Patti Smith,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Aswad,
Depeche Mode,
Can,
The Electric Prunes,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Ponytail,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Amon Düül II,
Severed Heads,
Fad Gadget,
Jacques Brel,
Oblivians,
Gang Green,
the Human League,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
These Immortal Souls,
James White and The Blacks,
Kurtis Blow,
The Evens,
Wings,
The Names,
Visage,
The Seeds,
Sam Rivers,
Bauhaus,
CMW,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Main Source,
Dorothy Ashby,
Pharoah Sanders,
Joy Division,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
James Chance & The Contortions,
ABC,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Smoke,
Mary Jane Girls,
the Germs,
Suburban Knight,
Terrestrial Tones,
Ituana,
Mars,
Young Marble Giants,
The Doobie Brothers,
Graham Central Station,
Theoretical Girls,
Nation of Ulysses,
Maleditus Sound,
Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu.
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.