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 Palau and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Electric Light Orchestra to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Boogie Down Productions. All the underground hits.
All Bush Tetras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rosa Yemen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Q65,
Franke,
Tears for Fears,
Ituana,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Alarm Clocks,
China Crisis,
Rekid,
Cluster,
The Victims,
Hot Snakes,
Motorama,
The Fuzztones,
Blossom Toes,
Eric B and Rakim,
June of 44,
Gang Gang Dance,
Heaven 17,
Sällskapet,
Duran Duran,
Mr. Review,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Groovy Waters,
Nico,
Arcadia,
Massinfluence,
Fat Boys,
Bobby Byrd,
Henry Cow,
Lou Reed,
Reuben Wilson,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Nick Fraelich,
KRS-One,
Goldenarms,
Junior Murvin,
ABBA,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Fall,
The Martian,
Agitation Free,
The Velvet Underground,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Toasters,
Wolf Eyes,
Lower 48,
Malaria!,
Anakelly,
Sound Behaviour,
Average White Band,
Suburban Knight,
Sam Rivers,
Eli Mardock,
Crispy Ambulance,
Ultimate Spinach,
F. McDonald,
K-Klass,
Parry Music,
Pere Ubu,
The Smiths,
Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman.
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.