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 United Kingdom and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 rhodes 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 Eric Dolphy to the techno 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 Ajijia Myrayebe. All the underground hits.
All Jeff Mills tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soft Machine 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?
The United States of America,
Todd Rundgren,
Skaos,
Donny Hathaway,
Big Daddy Kane,
Scan 7,
Spoonie Gee,
Black Bananas,
Cheater Slicks,
Sarah Menescal,
John Lydon,
Absolute Body Control,
Japan,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
48th St. Collective,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Modern Lovers,
Tropical Tobacco,
Moby Grape,
Swell Maps,
Max Romeo,
U.S. Maple,
Bill Near,
ABC,
Erykah Badu,
Zapp,
Loose Ends,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Grauzone,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Sex Pistols,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Reuben Wilson,
Eurythmics,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Scratch Acid,
Neil Young,
The Litter,
Pussy Galore,
Aaron Thompson,
Wire,
Heaven 17,
ABBA,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Fluxion,
Pulsallama,
Bootsy Collins,
The Standells,
Boz Scaggs,
Ultra Naté,
the Germs,
The Shadows of Knight,
Fela Kuti,
Sällskapet,
La Düsseldorf,
Con Funk Shun,
Traffic Nightmare,
Spandau Ballet,
The Remains,
the Swans,
Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick.
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.