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 Thailand and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 marimba 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 Kaleidoscope to the grime 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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell. All the underground hits.
All Stereo Dub tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dave Gahan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Pretty Things record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radiohead,
a-ha,
Joey Negro,
Todd Rundgren,
Jawbox,
Model 500,
Roxy Music,
Bad Manners,
Dave Gahan,
The Real Kids,
Motorama,
Brand Nubian,
Judy Mowatt,
The Electric Prunes,
Royal Trux,
E-Dancer,
The Black Dice,
Big Daddy Kane,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Whodini,
The Doobie Brothers,
Alton Ellis,
Rotary Connection,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Evens,
Flipper,
The Tremeloes,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Scion,
Gichy Dan,
Gang of Four,
MDC,
DNA,
Nirvana,
Aloha Tigers,
Gang Green,
The Gun Club,
Bobby Womack,
New Order,
The Toasters,
The Monks,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Wasted Youth,
The Fall,
Spoonie Gee,
John Lydon,
Banda Bassotti,
Ultravox,
Joyce Sims,
Altered Images,
The Smiths,
Nik Kershaw,
Gastr Del Sol,
Drive Like Jehu,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Fire Engines,
Quando Quango,
Television,
The Sonics,
Organ, Organ, Organ, Organ.
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.