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 Romania and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 808 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 Invisible to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Martian. All the underground hits.
All Outsiders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alison Limerick 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marcia Griffiths record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New York Dolls,
Easy Going,
Mars,
Jacques Brel,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Das Ding,
Pole,
Inner City,
Wally Richardson,
Jerry's Kids,
the Human League,
Roy Ayers,
Oneida,
Schoolly D,
Ice-T,
the Slits,
Lalo Schifrin,
Sonic Youth,
Dorothy Ashby,
K-Klass,
The Grass Roots,
Theoretical Girls,
The Cramps,
Roxette,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Leaves,
Bizarre Inc.,
Los Fastidios,
Cymande,
Tears for Fears,
Make Up,
Brothers Johnson,
Scott Walker,
Black Pus,
The Vogues,
Metal Thangz,
Con Funk Shun,
Popol Vuh,
James White and The Blacks,
Franke,
Cybotron,
Freddie Wadling,
Cameo,
Q and Not U,
Faraquet,
Visage,
Rotary Connection,
The Last Poets,
Matthew Bourne,
Isaac Hayes,
Don Cherry,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Brass Construction,
The United States of America,
Skaos,
The American Breed,
Radio Birdman,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Dennis Brown,
Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson.
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.