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 Zambia and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 JFA. All the underground hits.
All Fatback Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camouflage record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a A Flock of Seagulls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Sherman,
Gang of Four,
Frankie Knuckles,
Severed Heads,
The Monks,
John Foxx,
Can,
Gil Scott Heron,
Harry Pussy,
Easy Going,
Urselle,
The Last Poets,
Massinfluence,
Average White Band,
Jerry's Kids,
The Monochrome Set,
Fela Kuti,
Negative Approach,
The Red Krayola,
Quantec,
Wasted Youth,
Pantaleimon,
Man Parrish,
Tom Boy,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Camberwell Now,
Barrington Levy,
Derrick May,
The Slackers,
The Standells,
Black Bananas,
Nico,
DJ Sneak,
Ten City,
The Seeds,
The Gories,
Oneida,
Roxy Music,
Laurel Aitken,
Scan 7,
Donald Byrd,
Lightning Bolt,
Fat Boys,
The Doors,
Soul II Soul,
Eric B and Rakim,
Silicon Teens,
Pylon,
Rufus Thomas,
Boogie Down Productions,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Nirvana,
Aural Exciters,
Television,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Brothers Johnson,
Sex Pistols,
Pharoah Sanders,
Babytalk,
Arab on Radar,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse, Neil Young & Crazy Horse, Neil Young & Crazy Horse, Neil Young & Crazy Horse.
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.