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 Papua New Guinea and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Visage to the techno 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 Gian Franco Pienzio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lebanon Hanover 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arcadia record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cure,
Public Enemy,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Electric Prunes,
The Count Five,
The Last Poets,
Jeru the Damaja,
Charles Mingus,
The Monks,
Gastr Del Sol,
Ponytail,
Agitation Free,
the Slits,
Jeff Mills,
Steve Hackett,
Hoover,
Gregory Isaacs,
Ohio Players,
The Black Dice,
The Sonics,
D'Angelo,
The Moleskins,
Fugazi,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Urselle,
Aloha Tigers,
Maurizio,
Monks,
Bush Tetras,
Althea and Donna,
The Techniques,
The Slackers,
Rosa Yemen,
Wally Richardson,
The Seeds,
Blancmange,
Man Eating Sloth,
Eli Mardock,
DJ Style,
Massinfluence,
Theoretical Girls,
Radio Birdman,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Swans,
Eric B and Rakim,
Robert Görl,
Lower 48,
Girls At Our Best!,
Moebius,
Sixth Finger,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Tom Boy,
Yazoo,
Neil Young,
Duran Duran,
Lucky Dragons,
Desert Stars,
The Modern Lovers,
Average White Band,
Marcia Griffiths,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Velvet Underground,
Royal Trux, Royal Trux, Royal Trux, Royal Trux.
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.