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 Bhutan and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Malaria! to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Von Mondo. All the underground hits.
All Cluster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 snare and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Intrusion record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Glambeats Corp.,
Tommy Roe,
Soul II Soul,
Crispy Ambulance,
Funky Four + One,
The Sound,
The Dead C,
Rapeman,
Arab on Radar,
EPMD,
The Angels of Light,
The Standells,
Underground Resistance,
Man Eating Sloth,
Kerri Chandler,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Fuzztones,
Rod Modell,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Archie Shepp,
The Buckinghams,
Eric B and Rakim,
Curtis Mayfield,
Henry Cow,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Smiths,
Neu!,
Mo-Dettes,
Soulsonic Force,
John Lydon,
The Last Poets,
Yellowson,
Ultra Naté,
Joy Division,
Cheater Slicks,
The Names,
Grey Daturas,
Brass Construction,
Blancmange,
Erasure,
Joe Smooth,
Monks,
Yaz,
Cluster,
Adolescents,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Yazoo,
Gang Green,
Amazonics,
Oneida,
Crispian St. Peters,
Black Bananas,
Black Sheep,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Beau Brummels,
Janne Schatter,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Khruangbin,
Talk Talk,
The Saints,
Quantec, Quantec, Quantec, Quantec.
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.