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 the UAE and from Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 Danielle Patucci to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Pantaleimon. All the underground hits.
All Marcia Griffiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rhythm & Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slits,
Silicon Teens,
The Modern Lovers,
Magma,
The Red Krayola,
The Velvet Underground,
kango's stein massive,
Dead Boys,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Eden Ahbez,
Eric Dolphy,
Faust,
DNA,
The Mojo Men,
Flipper,
Judy Mowatt,
Johnny Osbourne,
Kevin Saunderson,
Boogie Down Productions,
Mantronix,
Motorama,
The Smiths,
Eve St. Jones,
Brand Nubian,
Mark Hollis,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
the Slits,
Terrestrial Tones,
Avey Tare,
Gil Scott Heron,
Amon Düül,
Eddi Front,
Circle Jerks,
Stockholm Monsters,
48th St. Collective,
Hasil Adkins,
Saccharine Trust,
Deakin,
Aaron Thompson,
Warren Ellis,
MDC,
Nico,
Jeff Mills,
Inner City,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Crooked Eye,
Fela Kuti,
Carl Craig,
Grauzone,
Chrome,
Dawn Penn,
Rotary Connection,
Rites of Spring,
Groovy Waters,
Bluetip,
Cameo,
June Days,
Pantytec,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Marshall Jefferson,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels.
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.