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 Africa and from Winnipeg.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 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 Inner City to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Tears for Fears. All the underground hits.
All the Fania All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Qualms record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blake Baxter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dead Boys,
Saccharine Trust,
The Fall,
Jeff Lynne,
Interpol,
X-102,
The Searchers,
Bauhaus,
Joey Negro,
Letta Mbulu,
The Zeros,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Public Image Ltd.,
the Human League,
Nik Kershaw,
The Fortunes,
AZ,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Clear Light,
The Angels of Light,
B.T. Express,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Swans,
Fatback Band,
Fad Gadget,
Bush Tetras,
The Black Dice,
Ken Boothe,
Alphaville,
Mo-Dettes,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Lou Christie,
Shuggie Otis,
John Lydon,
The Litter,
Youth Brigade,
Cameo,
Easy Going,
Jerry's Kids,
Fat Boys,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Judy Mowatt,
The Blues Magoos,
Oblivians,
Q and Not U,
Patti Smith,
Reuben Wilson,
The Skatalites,
Simply Red,
Animal Collective,
Kenny Larkin,
Bluetip,
Robert Hood,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Surgeon,
Von Mondo,
Rakim,
Lou Reed,
The Star Department,
R.M.O.,
David Axelrod,
The Mummies,
Visage, Visage, Visage, Visage.
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.