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 Ghana and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 harpsichord 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 Kings Of Tomorrow to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Gories. All the underground hits.
All Black Bananas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The J.B.'s 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharoah Sanders,
The Electric Prunes,
Bronski Beat,
The Red Krayola,
Rufus Thomas,
Cheater Slicks,
The Techniques,
Janne Schatter,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Lou Reed,
Slave,
Audionom,
Freddie Wadling,
Livin' Joy,
Suburban Knight,
Circle Jerks,
Oblivians,
Grandmaster Flash,
U.S. Maple,
Gabor Szabo,
Tears for Fears,
Clear Light,
Max Romeo,
The Blackbyrds,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
James White and The Blacks,
Kenny Larkin,
Agitation Free,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Nik Kershaw,
the Swans,
Gastr Del Sol,
Warsaw,
Unrelated Segments,
The Stooges,
Howard Jones,
JFA,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Dead Boys,
Man Parrish,
Pierre Henry,
Electric Prunes,
Pantaleimon,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Animal Collective,
ABC,
Prince Buster,
Marine Girls,
The Smiths,
Blossom Toes,
Model 500,
KRS-One,
Soft Cell,
Johnny Osbourne,
Aural Exciters,
Jeff Mills,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Lower 48,
The Index,
Pole,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily.
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.