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 Libya and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Eurythmics to the electroclash 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 Altered Images. All the underground hits.
All F. McDonald tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultimate Spinach record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Morten Harket record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
R.M.O.,
David Bowie,
Gang of Four,
Kevin Saunderson,
Todd Rundgren,
Derrick Morgan,
UT,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Outsiders,
Curtis Mayfield,
Lower 48,
Arthur Verocai,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Scientists,
Metal Thangz,
Second Layer,
Aswad,
Stockholm Monsters,
Kas Product,
Unrelated Segments,
Connie Case,
Idris Muhammad,
The Monks,
Amazonics,
The Red Krayola,
Accadde A,
Sarah Menescal,
Barclay James Harvest,
Ronan,
Pantaleimon,
Depeche Mode,
Black Bananas,
Colin Newman,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Dirtbombs,
Sällskapet,
Malaria!,
Max Romeo,
Radio Birdman,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
A Flock of Seagulls,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Suicide,
Sixth Finger,
Danielle Patucci,
Blossom Toes,
In Retrospect,
Lakeside,
David McCallum,
LL Cool J,
48th St. Collective,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Blackbyrds,
Jawbox,
Banda Bassotti,
The Mojo Men,
Audionom,
X-102,
Los Fastidios,
Andrew Hill,
DJ Sneak,
Visage,
Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman.
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.