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 Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 chamberlin 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 Vaughan Mason & Crew to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Altered Images. All the underground hits.
All Oblivians tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sisters of Mercy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Busters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Soul II Soul,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Scan 7,
Vainqueur,
Soul Sonic Force,
Rod Modell,
The Associates,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Electric Prunes,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Barracudas,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Bluetip,
Aural Exciters,
John Coltrane,
The Dirtbombs,
Kevin Saunderson,
Tres Demented,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Make Up,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Ultravox,
The Mojo Men,
The Misunderstood,
Amon Düül II,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
A Certain Ratio,
The Blackbyrds,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Agent Orange,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Main Source,
T. Rex,
The Motions,
Scratch Acid,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Bobby Byrd,
Boredoms,
Spandau Ballet,
Gabor Szabo,
Sällskapet,
Black Moon,
Yellowson,
Big Daddy Kane,
Eden Ahbez,
The Modern Lovers,
UT,
Roxy Music,
Interpol,
Magma,
Ornette Coleman,
Barclay James Harvest,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Radiohead,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
David Axelrod,
New Age Steppers,
Tommy Roe,
Royal Trux,
Babytalk, Babytalk, Babytalk, Babytalk.
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.