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 Taiwan and from Manchester.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Spandau Ballet to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Chris & Cosey. All the underground hits.
All PIL tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tears for Fears record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marine Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fela Kuti,
Mantronix,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Nils Olav,
Funkadelic,
Minutemen,
Gerry Rafferty,
Ohio Players,
Frankie Knuckles,
Scion,
Main Source,
Outsiders,
The Durutti Column,
Cybotron,
The Victims,
Janne Schatter,
Dead Boys,
Massinfluence,
Traffic Nightmare,
Jeru the Damaja,
Girls At Our Best!,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Dead C,
Fluxion,
Radio Birdman,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Average White Band,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Joy Division,
Minny Pops,
48th St. Collective,
Jeff Mills,
The Black Dice,
Easy Going,
The Five Americans,
Bauhaus,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Todd Rundgren,
Parry Music,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Althea and Donna,
Roxette,
Yellowson,
Pierre Henry,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Stockholm Monsters,
Blancmange,
Adolescents,
Negative Approach,
Fatback Band,
Basic Channel,
Derrick Morgan,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Mo-Dettes,
Black Flag,
the Sonics,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Television,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Todd Terry,
Faust,
Dark Day,
Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can.
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.