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 Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Joey Negro. All the underground hits.
All Kayak tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fatback Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
Tres Demented,
Wasted Youth,
The Martian,
Jerry's Kids,
Essential Logic,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Doobie Brothers,
Marvin Gaye,
Siglo XX,
The Dave Clark Five,
Swell Maps,
Avey Tare,
Massinfluence,
Bob Dylan,
Royal Trux,
OOIOO,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Funky Four + One,
T. Rex,
Pussy Galore,
Zapp,
Lou Christie,
ABC,
The Moody Blues,
Smog,
Joey Negro,
Brass Construction,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Soul Sonic Force,
Audionom,
Dawn Penn,
Mars,
The Birthday Party,
Nick Fraelich,
Stereo Dub,
Isaac Hayes,
Alphaville,
The Index,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Litter,
MC5,
Magazine,
Metal Thangz,
The Golliwogs,
The Last Poets,
The Moleskins,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Inner City,
Nirvana,
The Five Americans,
Morten Harket,
The Pop Group,
Lindisfarne,
the Soft Cell,
Lalann,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Scientists,
Infiniti,
The Divine Comedy,
Wally Richardson,
Organ,
Gong, Gong, Gong, Gong.
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.