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 Lesotho and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 sitar 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 Harry Pussy to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch. All the underground hits.
All The Names tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smiths record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Gang Dance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Star Department,
Simply Red,
Big Daddy Kane,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Michelle Simonal,
Scrapy,
Roger Hodgson,
Joyce Sims,
The Busters,
Agent Orange,
Icehouse,
Laurel Aitken,
Dennis Brown,
David McCallum,
David Axelrod,
The Residents,
E-Dancer,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Au Pairs,
Alton Ellis,
PIL,
Gichy Dan,
Excepter,
Electric Prunes,
Bob Dylan,
The Toasters,
The Human League,
Arcadia,
Second Layer,
Lalo Schifrin,
Tropical Tobacco,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
World's Most,
The Gories,
Minny Pops,
Funky Four + One,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Letta Mbulu,
Reuben Wilson,
X-Ray Spex,
Girls At Our Best!,
a-ha,
Pole,
Sonny Sharrock,
Anakelly,
Sparks,
The Skatalites,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Half Japanese,
Jeff Mills,
John Holt,
Pylon,
Boz Scaggs,
UT,
New York Dolls,
The Angels of Light,
The Move,
Zapp,
Ohio Players,
A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio.
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.