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 Botswana and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 organ 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 Yellowson to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Barry Ungar. All the underground hits.
All This Heat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Sheep record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Make Up record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Grass Roots,
Fatback Band,
Simply Red,
Warren Ellis,
Negative Approach,
Heaven 17,
Joey Negro,
Jeru the Damaja,
Glenn Branca,
Dark Day,
Sun City Girls,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Harry Pussy,
Dennis Brown,
Graham Central Station,
Flipper,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Shoche,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Last Poets,
Ultravox,
Deadbeat,
Franke,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Black Dice,
Steve Hackett,
Tres Demented,
Eddi Front,
Mad Mike,
Roxy Music,
Soft Machine,
Soul II Soul,
Curtis Mayfield,
Eden Ahbez,
Procol Harum,
Hot Snakes,
MC5,
Erasure,
Harpers Bizarre,
Boredoms,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Minutemen,
Animal Collective,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
John Holt,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Pretty Things,
Camouflage,
Radio Birdman,
The Dead C,
Barclay James Harvest,
Make Up,
Skarface,
Porter Ricks,
Drive Like Jehu,
Boogie Down Productions,
Eli Mardock,
Television,
Los Fastidios,
Trumans Water,
Vainqueur,
Second Layer, Second Layer, Second Layer, Second Layer.
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.