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 Angola and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 Girls At Our Best! to the rock 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 The Mighty Diamonds. All the underground hits.
All the Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Qualms 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Saccharine Trust,
The Dead C,
Minutemen,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Dave Gahan,
Infiniti,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Average White Band,
David McCallum,
Yusef Lateef,
Skriet,
Ralphi Rosario,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Jerry's Kids,
Dawn Penn,
Youth Brigade,
Icehouse,
Al Stewart,
The Gladiators,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Angels of Light,
The Blues Magoos,
Joe Smooth,
La Düsseldorf,
The Moody Blues,
Can,
June of 44,
Pantaleimon,
Wasted Youth,
Hot Snakes,
Deadbeat,
Roy Ayers,
Kurtis Blow,
Au Pairs,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Cure,
Barbara Tucker,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Busters,
Pierre Henry,
ABBA,
Organ,
Smog,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Flipper,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Gil Scott Heron,
Swans,
Roger Hodgson,
Girls At Our Best!,
Unwound,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Grey Daturas,
Dual Sessions,
Clear Light,
Anakelly,
Donald Byrd,
Glenn Branca,
Soulsonic Force,
Suicide,
Moebius,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Tres Demented, Tres Demented, Tres Demented, Tres Demented.
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.