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 Tonga and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 harpsichord 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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Man Eating Sloth. All the underground hits.
All Bad Manners tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris Corsano record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 guitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Duran Duran record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sound,
Q65,
Camouflage,
Swans,
Godley & Creme,
Dave Gahan,
Hoover,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Deakin,
the Association,
The Divine Comedy,
Crispy Ambulance,
Matthew Bourne,
Quando Quango,
Soft Cell,
The Smiths,
Scion,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Unwound,
The Fall,
Cameo,
Todd Rundgren,
Tommy Roe,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Patti Smith,
In Retrospect,
Eddi Front,
The Associates,
Eli Mardock,
Amon Düül II,
La Düsseldorf,
Radiopuhelimet,
Accadde A,
Flamin' Groovies,
Black Flag,
kango's stein massive,
Big Daddy Kane,
Wolf Eyes,
Moby Grape,
Bush Tetras,
Reuben Wilson,
Mandrill,
Don Cherry,
The Cure,
The Remains,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Janne Schatter,
Porter Ricks,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Parry Music,
Youth Brigade,
Angry Samoans,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Moody Blues,
8 Eyed Spy,
Technova,
Jeru the Damaja,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones.
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.