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 Bahrain and from Lyon.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum 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 T.S.O.L. to the disco 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 The Beau Brummels. All the underground hits.
All Sarah Menescal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eyeless In Gaza record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David McCallum record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Blues Magoos,
Thompson Twins,
the Normal,
Television,
Marvin Gaye,
John Coltrane,
Marshall Jefferson,
Index,
Brass Construction,
T. Rex,
Sun City Girls,
Warsaw,
Inner City,
Metal Thangz,
Lyres,
Underground Resistance,
Flipper,
Man Eating Sloth,
Flamin' Groovies,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Procol Harum,
The Walker Brothers,
The Fuzztones,
Marine Girls,
Royal Trux,
Gang Green,
Andrew Hill,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
the Association,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Vogues,
Accadde A,
The Fugs,
The Cure,
Tom Boy,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Five Americans,
the Swans,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Victims,
Aswad,
Electric Prunes,
Rhythm & Sound,
Grey Daturas,
Sparks,
Porter Ricks,
Arthur Verocai,
Girls At Our Best!,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Move,
Tim Buckley,
Masters at Work,
Lungfish,
Audionom,
Joe Smooth,
Dead Boys,
Connie Case,
David McCallum,
Robert Görl,
The Trojans,
Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange.
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.