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 Tunisia and from Manchester.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Matthew Halsall to the electroclash 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 The Dead C. All the underground hits.
All Average White Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Starr record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Selector Dub Narcotic 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?
Mantronix,
Roger Hodgson,
Boogie Down Productions,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
E-Dancer,
Brothers Johnson,
The Fortunes,
Marcia Griffiths,
Isaac Hayes,
Eddi Front,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
H. Thieme,
Monks,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Lightning Bolt,
Lakeside,
The Residents,
Yaz,
The Fugs,
Frankie Knuckles,
Agent Orange,
John Coltrane,
Trumans Water,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Gories,
Idris Muhammad,
Ken Boothe,
Eli Mardock,
R.M.O.,
Boz Scaggs,
The Motions,
Shoche,
Quadrant,
Moby Grape,
Index,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Peter and Kerry,
Man Eating Sloth,
Rosa Yemen,
The Walker Brothers,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Gladiators,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Gap Band,
The Black Dice,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Cluster,
The Doors,
FM Einheit,
Matthew Halsall,
Connie Case,
Archie Shepp,
Rotary Connection,
Young Marble Giants,
The Searchers,
Marc Almond,
Sällskapet,
Cybotron,
Flipper,
Zero Boys, Zero Boys, Zero Boys, Zero Boys.
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.