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 Ethiopia and from Seoul.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Spokane.
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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Amazonics to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Arcadia. All the underground hits.
All Lyres tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sexual Harrassment 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Angels of Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Reed,
Jacob Miller,
Deadbeat,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Litter,
Kurtis Blow,
Crooked Eye,
The United States of America,
The Monochrome Set,
Sun City Girls,
Scrapy,
The Gladiators,
The Fortunes,
Michelle Simonal,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Cybotron,
The Moleskins,
Rufus Thomas,
Goldenarms,
Scan 7,
Gerry Rafferty,
the Soft Cell,
The Remains,
Aural Exciters,
Monolake,
48th St. Collective,
Minutemen,
Roy Ayers,
kango's stein massive,
Au Pairs,
Erykah Badu,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Sandy B,
Prince Buster,
John Foxx,
Byron Stingily,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Mummies,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Mary Jane Girls,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
John Cale,
Bobbi Humphrey,
LL Cool J,
Avey Tare,
Kerri Chandler,
Lower 48,
Intrusion,
Sex Pistols,
Young Marble Giants,
Gichy Dan,
Throbbing Gristle,
X-101,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Vainqueur,
Graham Central Station,
Ornette Coleman,
Depeche Mode,
Eurythmics,
John Coltrane,
Fat Boys,
Louis and Bebe Barron, Louis and Bebe Barron, Louis and Bebe Barron, Louis and Bebe Barron.
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.