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 Ireland and from Calgary.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 Adolescents to the rap 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 E-Dancer. All the underground hits.
All The Gladiators tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stetsasonic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 808 and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Seeds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott Heron,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Second Layer,
Lyres,
The Divine Comedy,
L. Decosne,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Tears for Fears,
Hoover,
Girls At Our Best!,
Pantaleimon,
Trumans Water,
Bronski Beat,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Cheater Slicks,
Liliput,
Average White Band,
Wasted Youth,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Visage,
T.S.O.L.,
Japan,
Ponytail,
Minutemen,
Audionom,
Procol Harum,
Pussy Galore,
Oneida,
The Walker Brothers,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Five Americans,
Piero Umiliani,
Don Cherry,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Velvet Underground,
Jeff Mills,
Can,
The Trojans,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Monks,
The Detroit Cobras,
Juan Atkins,
Robert Görl,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Susan Cadogan,
The Saints,
The Happenings,
Jacob Miller,
The Monochrome Set,
The Beau Brummels,
Bizarre Inc.,
Saccharine Trust,
Tommy Roe,
The Flesh Eaters,
Amon Düül,
Avey Tare,
Nico,
Terrestrial Tones,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Mummies,
Matthew Halsall,
Lindisfarne,
Black Moon,
Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken.
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.