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 Philippines and from Calgary.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 chamberlin 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 The New Christs to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Subhumans. All the underground hits.
All Yazoo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quando Quango record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Bowie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Livin' Joy,
Lower 48,
Laurel Aitken,
Niagra,
The Electric Prunes,
The Last Poets,
Ultimate Spinach,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Icehouse,
Sight & Sound,
Blossom Toes,
Schoolly D,
Tom Boy,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Eyeless In Gaza,
MDC,
Audionom,
Severed Heads,
Eli Mardock,
The Black Dice,
Donald Byrd,
Robert Wyatt,
Yaz,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Young Rascals,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Moleskins,
Absolute Body Control,
Alphaville,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Junior Murvin,
Roy Ayers,
The Star Department,
Tomorrow,
Swans,
The Golliwogs,
The Gladiators,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Graham Central Station,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Mad Mike,
Lungfish,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Black Pus,
Crispy Ambulance,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Zero Boys,
Metal Thangz,
Albert Ayler,
The Fuzztones,
The Neon Judgement,
John Lydon,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Blancmange,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Move,
Thompson Twins,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Gap Band,
Hoover, Hoover, Hoover, Hoover.
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.