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 South Sudan and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 808 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 Glambeats Corp. to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Hardrive. All the underground hits.
All Roxy Music tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wasted Youth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Boredoms record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gerry Rafferty,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Modern Lovers,
Circle Jerks,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Motions,
Throbbing Gristle,
Piero Umiliani,
The Seeds,
Reagan Youth,
Royal Trux,
Loose Ends,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Mark Hollis,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Index,
The Five Americans,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
D'Angelo,
Pere Ubu,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Sixth Finger,
Amazonics,
Minnie Riperton,
the Fania All-Stars,
Kas Product,
Mary Jane Girls,
ABBA,
Stiv Bators,
The Monochrome Set,
Jacques Brel,
Bush Tetras,
Blancmange,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Saccharine Trust,
The Toasters,
Jeff Lynne,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Fall,
Panda Bear,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Hoover,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
the Sonics,
Reuben Wilson,
Nils Olav,
The Leaves,
Howard Jones,
Cameo,
Liliput,
The Black Dice,
Fat Boys,
Lee Hazlewood,
Ohio Players,
Graham Central Station,
Ultimate Spinach,
the Bar-Kays,
Sällskapet,
Mission of Burma,
Lower 48,
the Normal,
Lakeside, Lakeside, Lakeside, Lakeside.
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.