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 China and from Accra.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 sitar 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 Eyeless In Gaza to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Black Dice. All the underground hits.
All Henry Cow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Hill record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Doobie Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faust,
Roy Ayers,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Kaleidoscope,
Desert Stars,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
A Certain Ratio,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Black Dice,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
David McCallum,
Quantec,
Lou Christie,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Eli Mardock,
Jeff Mills,
Can,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Gang Gang Dance,
James White and The Blacks,
The Sound,
The Birthday Party,
Motorama,
E-Dancer,
Ornette Coleman,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Infiniti,
Urselle,
Clear Light,
Donald Byrd,
The American Breed,
Joe Smooth,
Robert Hood,
Pylon,
Agitation Free,
Yellowson,
Marmalade,
Fad Gadget,
Yusef Lateef,
Black Flag,
The Toasters,
Sun City Girls,
The Vogues,
Yazoo,
Graham Central Station,
Grey Daturas,
The Walker Brothers,
Bush Tetras,
Josef K,
Jacques Brel,
Tim Buckley,
Tubeway Army,
The Happenings,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Chris & Cosey,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Eurythmics,
Soft Cell,
Sight & Sound,
Crash Course in Science,
Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman.
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.