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 Papua New Guinea and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Crispy Ambulance to the techno 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 Deakin. All the underground hits.
All Howard Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Pretty Things record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Red Krayola record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crash Course in Science,
Surgeon,
Freddie Wadling,
Todd Terry,
Flash Fearless,
U.S. Maple,
8 Eyed Spy,
New Age Steppers,
Graham Central Station,
Fat Boys,
Ultra Naté,
Fluxion,
Wally Richardson,
Minnie Riperton,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Index,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Modern Lovers,
FM Einheit,
Rosa Yemen,
The Cramps,
Clear Light,
Charles Mingus,
Lee Hazlewood,
JFA,
Pere Ubu,
Mo-Dettes,
The Sound,
Sixth Finger,
Reagan Youth,
The Searchers,
The Move,
Glambeats Corp.,
Lalo Schifrin,
Deadbeat,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Hardrive,
Ten City,
Mad Mike,
10cc,
The New Christs,
The Leaves,
the Soft Cell,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Tim Buckley,
Desert Stars,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Man Eating Sloth,
Piero Umiliani,
Sugar Minott,
John Coltrane,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Technova,
Susan Cadogan,
The Remains,
Agent Orange,
Fad Gadget,
Vladislav Delay,
Jeru the Damaja,
Supertramp,
Panda Bear,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Nik Kershaw,
The Martian, The Martian, The Martian, The Martian.
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.