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 Cuba and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Stockholm.
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 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 Mary Jane Girls to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog. All the underground hits.
All Brass Construction tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masters at Work record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Leaves record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Talk Talk,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Slits,
Livin' Joy,
Bad Manners,
cv313,
Juan Atkins,
Brass Construction,
Dawn Penn,
Johnny Clarke,
The Residents,
DJ Style,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Severed Heads,
Joy Division,
The Gun Club,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Q and Not U,
Godley & Creme,
Magma,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Soft Cell,
Moebius,
Chris & Cosey,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Terrestrial Tones,
Quantec,
Au Pairs,
The Fugs,
Youth Brigade,
Spandau Ballet,
Eddi Front,
Dennis Brown,
Franke,
The Gap Band,
T. Rex,
David Axelrod,
Radiohead,
Index,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Josef K,
Moss Icon,
Mr. Review,
Kurtis Blow,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Ultra Naté,
Mission of Burma,
Pulsallama,
Tommy Roe,
Aaron Thompson,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Blues Magoos,
Unrelated Segments,
Sun Ra,
Eden Ahbez,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Echospace,
Kayak,
Don Cherry,
The Names,
Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin.
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.