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 Slovenia and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Con Funk Shun to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Marc Almond. All the underground hits.
All Second Layer tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crooked Eye,
China Crisis,
Pylon,
John Holt,
Procol Harum,
Joy Division,
U.S. Maple,
Cecil Taylor,
Youth Brigade,
Bobbi Humphrey,
John Cale,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Human League,
Sparks,
Babytalk,
Lungfish,
Second Layer,
Mo-Dettes,
Eric B and Rakim,
David McCallum,
Arcadia,
Deadbeat,
Black Bananas,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Colin Newman,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Sixth Finger,
Groovy Waters,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Kas Product,
Flipper,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Funky Four + One,
Barclay James Harvest,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Oneida,
Los Fastidios,
Sällskapet,
The Dead C,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Dawn Penn,
Harpers Bizarre,
Matthew Halsall,
Maurizio,
Jawbox,
Quadrant,
The Searchers,
Donald Byrd,
Darondo,
Moebius,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Scratch Acid,
Unwound,
Idris Muhammad,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Basic Channel,
The Fire Engines,
Reuben Wilson,
Banda Bassotti,
Nik Kershaw,
Public Enemy,
Accadde A,
Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy.
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.