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 Solomon Islands and from Salvador.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 The Flesh Eaters to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Sällskapet. All the underground hits.
All Pagans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed & John Cale 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kas Product record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
B.T. Express,
Slave,
The Real Kids,
Lebanon Hanover,
Harmonia,
Mr. Review,
Pagans,
The Trojans,
Rod Modell,
Arthur Verocai,
Ponytail,
Jacob Miller,
Outsiders,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Standells,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Unrelated Segments,
Groovy Waters,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Sound,
The Dirtbombs,
The Fugs,
The Black Dice,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Josef K,
Unwound,
Thee Headcoats,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Technova,
Rapeman,
the Germs,
Hasil Adkins,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Ossler,
Organ,
Barry Ungar,
Scientists,
Ronnie Foster,
Robert Görl,
The Offenders,
The Martian,
Man Eating Sloth,
Max Romeo,
June Days,
The Gap Band,
Inner City,
Byron Stingily,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Crooked Eye,
Rites of Spring,
Cybotron,
Cameo,
Chrome,
Oblivians,
Glenn Branca,
Stetsasonic,
Rotary Connection,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Scan 7,
Thompson Twins,
Nation of Ulysses,
Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks.
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.