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 St Lucia and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Moody Blues to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Associates. All the underground hits.
All Television tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Easy Going record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spandau Ballet,
Johnny Osbourne,
Jerry's Kids,
the Swans,
Soft Machine,
Absolute Body Control,
Robert Wyatt,
UT,
Lebanon Hanover,
Crispian St. Peters,
Pussy Galore,
The Human League,
Buzzcocks,
Ronan,
The Trojans,
Metal Thangz,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Animal Collective,
Goldenarms,
Josef K,
Janne Schatter,
Fad Gadget,
The Dead C,
Soulsonic Force,
The Zeros,
Tomorrow,
Vladislav Delay,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Procol Harum,
The Walker Brothers,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Swans,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Danielle Patucci,
Saccharine Trust,
Wally Richardson,
Maurizio,
Quadrant,
The Saints,
The Neon Judgement,
Average White Band,
A Flock of Seagulls,
David Bowie,
Schoolly D,
Stiv Bators,
Carl Craig,
Boz Scaggs,
Rites of Spring,
ABC,
The Buckinghams,
ABBA,
Barrington Levy,
10cc,
Sexual Harrassment,
Flamin' Groovies,
Albert Ayler,
Excepter,
Faraquet,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Alarm Clocks,
Eden Ahbez,
Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre.
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.