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 Mozambique and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 David Bowie 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 Silicon Teens to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Real Kids. All the underground hits.
All Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ralphi Rosario record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 arpeggiator and a sitar 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 linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Judy Mowatt,
X-101,
Electric Prunes,
Eden Ahbez,
Average White Band,
Urselle,
Country Teasers,
Symarip,
Tomorrow,
Bluetip,
Charles Mingus,
Malaria!,
The Residents,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Scratch Acid,
The Gladiators,
Vladislav Delay,
Ultravox,
Mark Hollis,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Bush Tetras,
The Gun Club,
The Walker Brothers,
Livin' Joy,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Fuzztones,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Smog,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The United States of America,
Vainqueur,
a-ha,
Robert Hood,
Black Sheep,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Hoover,
Stereo Dub,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Theoretical Girls,
The Techniques,
Bootsy Collins,
June of 44,
The Trojans,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Reuben Wilson,
Visage,
Juan Atkins,
Aloha Tigers,
Royal Trux,
Motorama,
Sun City Girls,
Icehouse,
The Electric Prunes,
Brand Nubian,
ABBA,
Tears for Fears,
This Heat,
Lebanon Hanover,
Talk Talk, Talk Talk, Talk Talk, Talk Talk.
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.