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 Albania and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Marine Girls to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Flamin' Groovies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James White and The Blacks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aloha Tigers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gun Club,
Kenny Larkin,
Stiv Bators,
The Human League,
Anakelly,
LL Cool J,
Minny Pops,
The Red Krayola,
Slave,
Robert Hood,
Kevin Saunderson,
Con Funk Shun,
Suicide,
Faraquet,
Au Pairs,
The Fuzztones,
Visage,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Dark Day,
The Slackers,
Can,
The American Breed,
Byron Stingily,
Quando Quango,
Darondo,
John Foxx,
Camouflage,
Josef K,
Average White Band,
Bang On A Can,
The Knickerbockers,
Swell Maps,
Severed Heads,
Tubeway Army,
Amon Düül,
Moss Icon,
The Blues Magoos,
Inner City,
Index,
The Doors,
Jerry's Kids,
Organ,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Lou Christie,
Ultravox,
New Order,
The Fall,
Yazoo,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Girls At Our Best!,
the Slits,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Golliwogs,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Barclay James Harvest,
Wolf Eyes,
Metal Thangz,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Agitation Free,
Jacques Brel,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks.
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.