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 Congo and from Accra.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 mellotron 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks to the crunk 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 Magazine. All the underground hits.
All Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jawbox 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dead C record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David Bowie,
One Last Wish,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Index,
the Normal,
Saccharine Trust,
Mo-Dettes,
Michelle Simonal,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Minnie Riperton,
Connie Case,
Amon Düül,
Motorama,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Clear Light,
Judy Mowatt,
Sparks,
The Angels of Light,
Thompson Twins,
Duran Duran,
In Retrospect,
Country Teasers,
Tomorrow,
Electric Prunes,
Vainqueur,
Barry Ungar,
Brick,
Bluetip,
Flamin' Groovies,
Spoonie Gee,
the Bar-Kays,
Skaos,
Marcia Griffiths,
Mars,
Althea and Donna,
The Barracudas,
Rakim,
Sister Nancy,
Drexciya,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Names,
The Sonics,
Dawn Penn,
Barbara Tucker,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Ken Boothe,
Wasted Youth,
Terry Callier,
The Knickerbockers,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Zapp,
Ronnie Foster,
Prince Buster,
Josef K,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Fire Engines,
The Index,
ABBA, ABBA, ABBA, ABBA.
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.