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 Kenya and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 Mexico City and Delhi.
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 clarinet 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 Bronski Beat to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Isaac Hayes. All the underground hits.
All Bush Tetras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every CMW record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 a clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric B and Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Symarip,
Y Pants,
Stiv Bators,
ABBA,
Schoolly D,
Organ,
Wolf Eyes,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Alton Ellis,
DJ Sneak,
Stereo Dub,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Porter Ricks,
World's Most,
Mars,
John Cale,
The Techniques,
Malaria!,
FM Einheit,
Loose Ends,
The Gladiators,
Shoche,
Banda Bassotti,
Erasure,
Colin Newman,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Quando Quango,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Joy Division,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Cramps,
Trumans Water,
Wally Richardson,
Deepchord,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Last Poets,
The Names,
Ronan,
The Real Kids,
Cecil Taylor,
The Martian,
Chrome,
Crispian St. Peters,
Throbbing Gristle,
Chris & Cosey,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Motorama,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Blackbyrds,
Heaven 17,
Rod Modell,
Laurel Aitken,
Kool Moe Dee,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Camouflage,
Niagra,
The Neon Judgement,
Von Mondo,
Mission of Burma,
Hoover,
Moby Grape, Moby Grape, Moby Grape, Moby Grape.
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.