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 Mongolia and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 Accra and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Los Fastidios 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 Jacob Miller. All the underground hits.
All The Grass Roots tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gichy Dan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fat Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Big Daddy Kane,
Shoche,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Amon Düül II,
Jeff Lynne,
Chris Corsano,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Walker Brothers,
Bad Manners,
Alton Ellis,
The Young Rascals,
Bauhaus,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Inner City,
The Music Machine,
Qualms,
ABBA,
the Soft Cell,
Pole,
Pere Ubu,
Pagans,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Reagan Youth,
Sex Pistols,
Kayak,
Rapeman,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Soft Machine,
Siglo XX,
Eli Mardock,
Skarface,
Liliput,
The Fall,
The Moleskins,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Livin' Joy,
FM Einheit,
The Blackbyrds,
Blancmange,
Simply Red,
Radio Birdman,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Marvin Gaye,
Aural Exciters,
Skriet,
The Evens,
The Kinks,
Max Romeo,
Crispian St. Peters,
Scan 7,
Con Funk Shun,
Trumans Water,
Hoover,
The Index,
The Selecter,
Ponytail,
Letta Mbulu,
Harpers Bizarre,
Charles Mingus,
The Cramps,
Metal Thangz,
Curtis Mayfield,
Alice Coltrane,
Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti.
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.