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 Malawi and from Madrid.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Pop Group to the techno 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 Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every U.S. Maple 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tropical Tobacco record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jerry's Kids,
Man Eating Sloth,
Eddi Front,
Fatback Band,
Tropical Tobacco,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
China Crisis,
June of 44,
Dual Sessions,
The Gap Band,
CMW,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Altered Images,
Royal Trux,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Walker Brothers,
Piero Umiliani,
The Moody Blues,
John Coltrane,
Max Romeo,
The Selecter,
Talk Talk,
Ronnie Foster,
Suburban Knight,
Neu!,
The Remains,
Chris & Cosey,
Arab on Radar,
Kerri Chandler,
A Certain Ratio,
Unwound,
Nico,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
David Axelrod,
Arcadia,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Juan Atkins,
The Dead C,
Johnny Osbourne,
Yazoo,
The Happenings,
The Divine Comedy,
The Slackers,
Niagra,
Nik Kershaw,
Scrapy,
Rufus Thomas,
Gang Gang Dance,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Crime,
Davy DMX,
Von Mondo,
Slick Rick,
The Dave Clark Five,
F. McDonald,
Bush Tetras,
Fear,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Junior Murvin,
Monolake, Monolake, Monolake, Monolake.
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.