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 Indonesia and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Fugazi to the crunk 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 Jeff Lynne. All the underground hits.
All The Neon Judgement tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tears for Fears 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Christie,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
New Age Steppers,
Cluster,
L. Decosne,
the Human League,
PIL,
Man Parrish,
Glambeats Corp.,
Bobby Byrd,
Arthur Verocai,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Gladiators,
Moss Icon,
Michelle Simonal,
MC5,
Unrelated Segments,
Tres Demented,
Public Enemy,
Oneida,
Parry Music,
Tears for Fears,
Bobby Sherman,
FM Einheit,
Pantytec,
Fugazi,
John Foxx,
Quando Quango,
Loose Ends,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Darondo,
Dark Day,
Amon Düül II,
Ronan,
Suburban Knight,
Quadrant,
James White and The Blacks,
Camouflage,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Black Pus,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Neu!,
The Last Poets,
ABBA,
Anakelly,
Grauzone,
Cameo,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Standells,
DJ Sneak,
Tom Boy,
Black Bananas,
Stereo Dub,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Rosa Yemen,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Sonny Sharrock,
Boz Scaggs,
Bad Manners,
Stetsasonic,
Cybotron,
Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U.
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.