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 New York.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Von Mondo to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Desert Stars. All the underground hits.
All Chris Corsano tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wasted Youth 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mad Mike record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Style,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Yusef Lateef,
Underground Resistance,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The J.B.'s,
Qualms,
Quadrant,
Yellowson,
Rod Modell,
Rites of Spring,
the Soft Cell,
Visage,
Wolf Eyes,
Wire,
Reuben Wilson,
The Saints,
The Litter,
Wings,
Ossler,
Wally Richardson,
Maurizio,
Basic Channel,
Yaz,
Pere Ubu,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Detroit Cobras,
Japan,
Severed Heads,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Depeche Mode,
Gil Scott Heron,
Arcadia,
Tears for Fears,
Nik Kershaw,
Bootsy Collins,
Isaac Hayes,
Sandy B,
Unwound,
Ronan,
Harry Pussy,
New Age Steppers,
The Durutti Column,
Babytalk,
New Order,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Lucky Dragons,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Subhumans,
Minny Pops,
Fatback Band,
Thee Headcoats,
X-Ray Spex,
Godley & Creme,
Jacob Miller,
Sun City Girls,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Essential Logic,
Throbbing Gristle,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy.
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.