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 Azerbaijan and from Mexico City.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Mumbai.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
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 Eddi Front to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Oneida. All the underground hits.
All Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Delon & Dalcan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wasted Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hoover,
June of 44,
John Coltrane,
Chris Corsano,
Tim Buckley,
Marmalade,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Spoonie Gee,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Gories,
Soft Cell,
Gregory Isaacs,
Rites of Spring,
Alphaville,
New York Dolls,
Mr. Review,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Harry Pussy,
The Offenders,
Gang Starr,
The Fortunes,
Public Image Ltd.,
Crash Course in Science,
Negative Approach,
Colin Newman,
MDC,
Blake Baxter,
Freddie Wadling,
The Durutti Column,
Zapp,
Model 500,
Tommy Roe,
Fat Boys,
Bush Tetras,
John Foxx,
Toni Rubio,
Curtis Mayfield,
Nico,
Ituana,
Jeru the Damaja,
Fluxion,
Spandau Ballet,
The Toasters,
Gang Green,
Shoche,
Graham Central Station,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Ohio Players,
Skarface,
Ornette Coleman,
Josef K,
FM Einheit,
Dead Boys,
In Retrospect,
The Blues Magoos,
Organ,
Bootsy Collins,
Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson.
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.