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 Turkmenistan and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Piero Umiliani to the funk 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 Kurtis Blow. All the underground hits.
All Nils Olav tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every F. McDonald record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Moody Blues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Drexciya,
Mo-Dettes,
CMW,
Pet Shop Boys,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Jerry's Kids,
Jacob Miller,
Spandau Ballet,
Hot Snakes,
Trumans Water,
Barbara Tucker,
Depeche Mode,
Terrestrial Tones,
Second Layer,
Mars,
Sparks,
Scratch Acid,
Pulsallama,
Technova,
Circle Jerks,
PIL,
Nick Fraelich,
Donald Byrd,
X-102,
Carl Craig,
Little Man,
Minnie Riperton,
Bobby Womack,
These Immortal Souls,
Sight & Sound,
Stetsasonic,
FM Einheit,
Colin Newman,
Camberwell Now,
Erasure,
Lou Christie,
Junior Murvin,
Man Eating Sloth,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Althea and Donna,
the Sonics,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Zeros,
Nik Kershaw,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Real Kids,
Gregory Isaacs,
Quadrant,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Jeru the Damaja,
Idris Muhammad,
The Selecter,
Jesper Dahlback,
Suicide,
The Gun Club,
Drive Like Jehu,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Marine Girls,
Moss Icon,
John Lydon,
Talk Talk, Talk Talk, Talk Talk, Talk Talk.
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.