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 Ukraine and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 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 Little Man 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 Audionom. All the underground hits.
All U.S. Maple tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Janne Schatter 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Country Teasers,
Das Ding,
The Durutti Column,
Gong,
Crispian St. Peters,
Eric Copeland,
New York Dolls,
Pharoah Sanders,
Metal Thangz,
Half Japanese,
Althea and Donna,
Bill Near,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Blackbyrds,
Derrick Morgan,
In Retrospect,
Rekid,
E-Dancer,
These Immortal Souls,
Intrusion,
John Cale,
Severed Heads,
Byron Stingily,
Letta Mbulu,
Barrington Levy,
Eddi Front,
Thee Headcoats,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Sparks,
Graham Central Station,
Lou Christie,
The Doors,
The Fire Engines,
Neil Young,
Cameo,
Big Daddy Kane,
the Germs,
X-101,
Sam Rivers,
Dennis Brown,
Tomorrow,
Blossom Toes,
Hoover,
Jeff Lynne,
The Trojans,
The Monks,
Spandau Ballet,
Warsaw,
Smog,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
LL Cool J,
Peter and Kerry,
Cheater Slicks,
Judy Mowatt,
Reuben Wilson,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
China Crisis,
The Grass Roots,
Kerrie Biddell,
Mark Hollis,
Sonic Youth,
The Monochrome Set,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Slits, The Slits, The Slits, The Slits.
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.