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 Lebanon and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 spring reverb 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 The Fall to the jazz 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 Duran Duran. All the underground hits.
All Chrome tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siouxsie and the Banshees 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cabaret Voltaire record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
ABBA,
Rites of Spring,
Junior Murvin,
Swell Maps,
Rapeman,
Desert Stars,
Radiopuhelimet,
Blancmange,
Cal Tjader,
Bill Wells,
Ituana,
Scientists,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Main Source,
One Last Wish,
The Sound,
Derrick Morgan,
Jeff Mills,
MC5,
Yellowson,
the Bar-Kays,
Idris Muhammad,
Lakeside,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Country Joe & The Fish,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Skriet,
Bootsy Collins,
The Move,
Zapp,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Beau Brummels,
Matthew Bourne,
Excepter,
The Electric Prunes,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
John Coltrane,
The Modern Lovers,
The Detroit Cobras,
Mission of Burma,
Nils Olav,
The Birthday Party,
Gong,
Television,
Swans,
Gang Green,
Khruangbin,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Marvin Gaye,
Flamin' Groovies,
Crime,
Gang of Four,
Pharoah Sanders,
Slick Rick,
Gil Scott Heron,
Pierre Henry,
Alton Ellis,
Fear,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Yaz,
Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke.
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.