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 Singapore and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 spring reverb 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 Soft Machine to the rap 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 Basic Channel. All the underground hits.
All Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Piero Umiliani record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Offenders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Detroit Cobras,
The Index,
Sonny Sharrock,
Minutemen,
Fat Boys,
Soul Sonic Force,
Depeche Mode,
Man Eating Sloth,
The J.B.'s,
Spandau Ballet,
One Last Wish,
Rapeman,
Henry Cow,
Ultra Naté,
Infiniti,
Arab on Radar,
La Düsseldorf,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Laurel Aitken,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Mo-Dettes,
Judy Mowatt,
Magazine,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Graham Central Station,
Sonic Youth,
The Invisible,
the Soft Cell,
The Last Poets,
Masters at Work,
Bobby Byrd,
Traffic Nightmare,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Vladislav Delay,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Pussy Galore,
Aswad,
CMW,
Barrington Levy,
Animal Collective,
Bobby Womack,
Hot Snakes,
Wally Richardson,
Panda Bear,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Fall,
Metal Thangz,
10cc,
Gang Green,
Terrestrial Tones,
Derrick Morgan,
E-Dancer,
Duran Duran,
Marine Girls,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Unrelated Segments,
Whodini,
Eddi Front,
Quadrant,
David McCallum,
The Happenings,
X-101,
Letta Mbulu,
JFA, JFA, JFA, JFA.
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.