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 Equatorial Guinea and from Manila.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe 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 Model 500 to the punk 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 Sun Ra. All the underground hits.
All Marine Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 sitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Moody Blues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Chocolate Watch Band,
New Order,
Soft Machine,
Clear Light,
Mark Hollis,
Deakin,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Television,
Lou Christie,
Joe Finger,
Andrew Hill,
Quando Quango,
Rekid,
Deadbeat,
Sparks,
Todd Rundgren,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
John Lydon,
Das Ding,
E-Dancer,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Skaos,
Robert Hood,
Rosa Yemen,
U.S. Maple,
Bill Near,
The Doors,
Carl Craig,
MDC,
The Motions,
Robert Görl,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Liliput,
Public Enemy,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Slave,
Fat Boys,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Pretty Things,
The Blues Magoos,
Hoover,
John Cale,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
CMW,
Dark Day,
Subhumans,
The Pop Group,
Tom Boy,
Jacques Brel,
New Age Steppers,
Hashim,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Tommy Roe,
Michelle Simonal,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Derrick Morgan,
The Dirtbombs,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow.
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.