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 Brazil and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Portland.
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 synthesizer 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog to the punk 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 Minutemen. All the underground hits.
All Rhythim Is Rhythim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Newcleus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a MDC record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Stooges,
Slick Rick,
Curtis Mayfield,
Bobby Sherman,
B.T. Express,
Ultimate Spinach,
Roger Hodgson,
a-ha,
Anakelly,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Standells,
Drexciya,
Procol Harum,
China Crisis,
Masters at Work,
Pole,
Qualms,
Shoche,
Echospace,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Music Machine,
Royal Trux,
Freddie Wadling,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Donald Byrd,
Public Enemy,
Tropical Tobacco,
Grauzone,
Reuben Wilson,
Lee Hazlewood,
Vladislav Delay,
Erykah Badu,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The United States of America,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Blackbyrds,
Wasted Youth,
Sarah Menescal,
Mary Jane Girls,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Half Japanese,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Wolf Eyes,
Inner City,
Glenn Branca,
Von Mondo,
The Pretty Things,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Au Pairs,
Unwound,
The Leaves,
The Kinks,
Sun City Girls,
The Slits,
Nick Fraelich,
Brand Nubian,
Harry Pussy,
Fort Wilson Riot,
H. Thieme,
Aswad,
Big Daddy Kane,
Dave Gahan,
Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo.
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.