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 Denmark 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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 clarinet 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 Nick Fraelich to the rap 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 Minutemen. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every It's A Beautiful Day record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Erasure,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Radiohead,
The Young Rascals,
Yaz,
Amon Düül II,
Lou Reed,
Pole,
World's Most,
Barrington Levy,
Jeff Lynne,
Mantronix,
Cymande,
Wings,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Crispy Ambulance,
E-Dancer,
Yellowson,
Basic Channel,
Monks,
48th St. Collective,
Audionom,
Malaria!,
Young Marble Giants,
The Pretty Things,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Raincoats,
The Blues Magoos,
Alton Ellis,
LL Cool J,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Yusef Lateef,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Index,
Scion,
the Bar-Kays,
Aswad,
Johnny Clarke,
The Monks,
Matthew Halsall,
Black Bananas,
Gang Starr,
The Electric Prunes,
Monolake,
the Germs,
Nico,
X-101,
Freddie Wadling,
Scan 7,
Joe Finger,
Minutemen,
Los Fastidios,
Prince Buster,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
B.T. Express,
Lindisfarne,
Infiniti,
Underground Resistance,
Gregory Isaacs,
Slave,
Cameo,
Brothers Johnson,
The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed.
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.