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 Taiwan and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Lower 48 to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Buzzcocks. All the underground hits.
All The Royal Family And The Poor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sun Ra Arkestra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nation of Ulysses record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Symarip,
Fat Boys,
Monolake,
Clear Light,
Supertramp,
Mark Hollis,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Black Pus,
Gang of Four,
Ituana,
Aaron Thompson,
H. Thieme,
New York Dolls,
James White and The Blacks,
Deadbeat,
the Bar-Kays,
Echospace,
the Sonics,
Suburban Knight,
Flipper,
Goldenarms,
Main Source,
Average White Band,
Basic Channel,
Bad Manners,
ABC,
the Slits,
Don Cherry,
Magma,
Donny Hathaway,
The Red Krayola,
Shuggie Otis,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Reagan Youth,
This Heat,
Pylon,
The Last Poets,
Sister Nancy,
Liliput,
Can,
Henry Cow,
Animal Collective,
Tres Demented,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Black Sheep,
Neil Young,
the Association,
Althea and Donna,
Parry Music,
Sun City Girls,
The Birthday Party,
Byron Stingily,
Jerry's Kids,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Black Dice,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Icehouse,
Leonard Cohen,
Donald Byrd,
Grey Daturas,
Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B.
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.