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 Luxembourg and from Copenhagen.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the sitar 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 the Swans 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 OOIOO. All the underground hits.
All Eli Mardock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pierre Henry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Martian,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Jeff Lynne,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Pretty Things,
Lucky Dragons,
Average White Band,
Accadde A,
ABC,
Ossler,
Magazine,
The New Christs,
Gabor Szabo,
Icehouse,
Tears for Fears,
Dawn Penn,
Flamin' Groovies,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
B.T. Express,
The Durutti Column,
Vladislav Delay,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Scan 7,
New York Dolls,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Con Funk Shun,
Black Pus,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Alphaville,
Dark Day,
Vainqueur,
Eddi Front,
Crime,
Supertramp,
The Techniques,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Gap Band,
Radio Birdman,
Japan,
Bang On A Can,
the Association,
Circle Jerks,
AZ,
The Electric Prunes,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Ultimate Spinach,
Juan Atkins,
the Germs,
Aural Exciters,
MDC,
Sparks,
Charles Mingus,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
the Sonics,
The Toasters,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Bobby Byrd,
Pylon,
Rufus Thomas,
The Slackers,
Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders.
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.