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 Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Angry Samoans to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Connie Case. All the underground hits.
All Colin Newman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Index record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Names record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suicide,
Y Pants,
Marcia Griffiths,
Man Parrish,
Jeff Mills,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Knickerbockers,
Cymande,
Mandrill,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Music Machine,
Parry Music,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Vladislav Delay,
Soul II Soul,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Inner City,
Jesper Dahlback,
Arcadia,
The Birthday Party,
The Electric Prunes,
Heaven 17,
Hoover,
Lalann,
Faraquet,
Radio Birdman,
Pet Shop Boys,
Pantytec,
Arab on Radar,
Blake Baxter,
Nas,
Young Marble Giants,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Amon Düül,
Gang Gang Dance,
Sam Rivers,
Dorothy Ashby,
Quadrant,
Matthew Halsall,
Crispian St. Peters,
Bronski Beat,
U.S. Maple,
Spandau Ballet,
Brass Construction,
The Slits,
Agent Orange,
Unrelated Segments,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Andrew Hill,
Max Romeo,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Charles Mingus,
Depeche Mode,
Motorama,
Sällskapet,
Con Funk Shun,
Niagra,
Minny Pops,
Crash Course in Science,
Bobby Sherman,
The Shadows of Knight, The Shadows of Knight, The Shadows of Knight, The Shadows of Knight.
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.