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 Vanuatu and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 linndrum 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 The Fortunes to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Eden Ahbez. All the underground hits.
All Funkadelic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marcia Griffiths record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nas,
Schoolly D,
Magazine,
John Coltrane,
Monks,
Hoover,
Pussy Galore,
Jawbox,
Lou Christie,
Zero Boys,
Public Image Ltd.,
Black Moon,
Jeff Mills,
Main Source,
E-Dancer,
Tears for Fears,
Sex Pistols,
the Germs,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Index,
Dorothy Ashby,
Malaria!,
Kurtis Blow,
Heaven 17,
Tom Boy,
Country Teasers,
Harpers Bizarre,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Brothers Johnson,
Bob Dylan,
Animal Collective,
The Stooges,
Peter & Gordon,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Severed Heads,
The Leaves,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Alton Ellis,
Barclay James Harvest,
Kevin Saunderson,
Boz Scaggs,
Carl Craig,
Bronski Beat,
Dead Boys,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Gladiators,
Trumans Water,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
the Slits,
This Heat,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Grey Daturas,
The Buckinghams,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Real Kids,
Fela Kuti,
Swell Maps,
Maurizio,
Girls At Our Best!,
Derrick May,
Shuggie Otis,
Easy Going,
the Association,
Ornette Coleman,
New Order, New Order, New Order, New Order.
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.