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 Andorra and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Lille.
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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Soft Machine to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Gian Franco Pienzio. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Real Kids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marine Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Offenders,
E-Dancer,
Eric Copeland,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Index,
Mo-Dettes,
David McCallum,
Gabor Szabo,
Rakim,
Lou Reed,
the Soft Cell,
The Electric Prunes,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Bill Near,
Crime,
Tom Boy,
Jeff Mills,
the Swans,
Main Source,
Amazonics,
Flash Fearless,
Lungfish,
Hoover,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Y Pants,
Mantronix,
John Foxx,
Fear,
Bill Wells,
Minor Threat,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Soul Sonic Force,
Jacques Brel,
Vladislav Delay,
Crispian St. Peters,
Chrome,
Agent Orange,
Cecil Taylor,
Easy Going,
The Zeros,
Kaleidoscope,
Dave Gahan,
The Associates,
The Busters,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Suicide,
the Germs,
Tomorrow,
Animal Collective,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Altered Images,
X-Ray Spex,
Stiv Bators,
Ice-T,
Alison Limerick,
MC5,
Chris & Cosey,
The Slackers,
the Human League,
Goldenarms,
Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans.
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.