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 Korea South and from Milan.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 organ 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 Selecter to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Bang on a Can All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Guru Guru tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Letta Mbulu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 güiro and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Schoolly D record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
China Crisis,
Soft Cell,
These Immortal Souls,
JFA,
Ultimate Spinach,
Matthew Bourne,
the Fania All-Stars,
Tommy Roe,
The Mummies,
Grauzone,
Mission of Burma,
Dawn Penn,
Electric Prunes,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Slackers,
The Cramps,
Reuben Wilson,
The Victims,
Eve St. Jones,
Country Teasers,
Qualms,
John Foxx,
Zero Boys,
Cameo,
Black Moon,
Andrew Hill,
the Sonics,
The Gories,
Iggy Pop,
Matthew Halsall,
Zapp,
The Busters,
Black Sheep,
Marmalade,
James White and The Blacks,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Human League,
Lungfish,
Radiopuhelimet,
Surgeon,
Roger Hodgson,
Television Personalities,
Popol Vuh,
Bad Manners,
June Days,
E-Dancer,
Throbbing Gristle,
The New Christs,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Dark Day,
John Cale,
Howard Jones,
Masters at Work,
Dennis Brown,
Boz Scaggs,
ABBA,
Yazoo,
Cecil Taylor,
Charles Mingus,
The United States of America,
John Coltrane,
The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes.
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.