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 Haiti and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 Jakarta and Edmonton.
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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Stiv Bators to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Interpol. All the underground hits.
All Judy Mowatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Main Source 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Move record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Standells,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Second Layer,
Suburban Knight,
KRS-One,
Icehouse,
Urselle,
Cybotron,
Ralphi Rosario,
Derrick Morgan,
Chris & Cosey,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Smoke,
The Litter,
Lou Christie,
Banda Bassotti,
Accadde A,
Big Daddy Kane,
the Germs,
Gregory Isaacs,
Circle Jerks,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Rufus Thomas,
Oblivians,
Robert Görl,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Matthew Bourne,
Spandau Ballet,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Ronan,
Gichy Dan,
The Residents,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Cymande,
The Human League,
Jacques Brel,
K-Klass,
Colin Newman,
Bang On A Can,
Gang Green,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Angels of Light,
the Swans,
Donny Hathaway,
The Star Department,
Girls At Our Best!,
Anakelly,
The Real Kids,
The Young Rascals,
Los Fastidios,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Quantec,
Yusef Lateef,
Brand Nubian,
Lalann,
E-Dancer,
Ohio Players,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Eric Copeland,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Fear,
Flash Fearless, Flash Fearless, Flash Fearless, Flash Fearless.
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.