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 South Africa and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 marimba 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 Neil Young to the crunk 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 Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five. All the underground hits.
All Isaac Hayes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every A Flock of Seagulls 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare 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 & Brian Jackson,
Swans,
Rapeman,
The Slits,
Yellowson,
The Moody Blues,
The Seeds,
Wally Richardson,
Radio Birdman,
Livin' Joy,
Sun City Girls,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Fall,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Star Department,
Robert Görl,
Spandau Ballet,
Warren Ellis,
The Names,
Man Parrish,
Mission of Burma,
Amon Düül II,
Tubeway Army,
the Soft Cell,
Gang Gang Dance,
Ossler,
Reuben Wilson,
Prince Buster,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Hoover,
Easy Going,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Pere Ubu,
Schoolly D,
Jacques Brel,
Monolake,
New York Dolls,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Barracudas,
The Dave Clark Five,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Thompson Twins,
Country Teasers,
Shoche,
La Düsseldorf,
Buzzcocks,
Roxette,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Surgeon,
B.T. Express,
Jawbox,
Rod Modell,
OOIOO,
Skriet,
Yazoo,
The Offenders,
Ultravox,
PIL,
Alton Ellis,
Neu!,
The Smiths,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Gories, The Gories, The Gories, The Gories.
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.