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 Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Oneida to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Searchers. All the underground hits.
All The American Breed tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every FM Einheit record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 guitar and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tears for Fears record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Names,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Deepchord,
Funky Four + One,
Arab on Radar,
The Gun Club,
Thompson Twins,
Hardrive,
Derrick Morgan,
Bronski Beat,
R.M.O.,
Ronnie Foster,
David Bowie,
Boredoms,
Alton Ellis,
Sonny Sharrock,
Stetsasonic,
Colin Newman,
Althea and Donna,
Country Teasers,
Kaleidoscope,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Lee Hazlewood,
Max Romeo,
Minnie Riperton,
OOIOO,
Joensuu 1685,
Albert Ayler,
The Flesh Eaters,
Matthew Bourne,
Byron Stingily,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Masters at Work,
Lou Reed,
Urselle,
Carl Craig,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
L. Decosne,
Black Sheep,
John Lydon,
The Monks,
Shoche,
The Smoke,
The Fugs,
Dorothy Ashby,
Babytalk,
Excepter,
The Young Rascals,
Donald Byrd,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Thee Headcoats,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Scientists,
Andrew Hill,
Parry Music,
Robert Hood,
H. Thieme,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Last Poets,
The Sound,
The Blues Magoos,
Yazoo, Yazoo, Yazoo, Yazoo.
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.