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 Serbia and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Names to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Talk Talk. All the underground hits.
All Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultravox record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DNA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soft Cell,
Scratch Acid,
The Fire Engines,
Roxette,
Public Enemy,
Steve Hackett,
Section 25,
The Dirtbombs,
Ronnie Foster,
Todd Rundgren,
Frankie Knuckles,
Radio Birdman,
Slick Rick,
Black Moon,
the Sonics,
Donald Byrd,
Funky Four + One,
Radiopuhelimet,
Dorothy Ashby,
Oneida,
Marmalade,
John Lydon,
Neu!,
Josef K,
Black Bananas,
Qualms,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Alice Coltrane,
Rakim,
Soul II Soul,
Roger Hodgson,
Sam Rivers,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Trumans Water,
Kevin Saunderson,
Accadde A,
Soft Machine,
Barrington Levy,
Minor Threat,
The Sound,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Fatback Band,
The Offenders,
Guru Guru,
Mark Hollis,
Japan,
Lee Hazlewood,
Johnny Osbourne,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Echospace,
Joey Negro,
Subhumans,
Unrelated Segments,
Basic Channel,
Magazine,
The Gories,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Lower 48,
Ten City,
Ice-T,
The Shadows of Knight,
Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt.
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.