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 Costa Rica and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 Country Teasers to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 EPMD. All the underground hits.
All Freddie Wadling tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camberwell Now record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 a theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Louis and Bebe Barron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alice Coltrane,
The Moody Blues,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Rod Modell,
Visage,
Black Sheep,
DNA,
Erasure,
The Barracudas,
Ultimate Spinach,
Lakeside,
Roger Hodgson,
Ice-T,
Underground Resistance,
Tears for Fears,
Clear Light,
The Martian,
Soft Machine,
Make Up,
Jeru the Damaja,
June of 44,
John Cale,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Subhumans,
Fluxion,
The Music Machine,
Bluetip,
Eric B and Rakim,
Camberwell Now,
Bad Manners,
Neu!,
Funkadelic,
Lou Christie,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Interpol,
Malaria!,
Talk Talk,
The Zeros,
Sight & Sound,
Icehouse,
Eric Copeland,
The Monks,
Maleditus Sound,
Gang Starr,
Shoche,
The Victims,
Frankie Knuckles,
Warsaw,
The Real Kids,
Pharoah Sanders,
Bronski Beat,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Vladislav Delay,
Kaleidoscope,
Iggy Pop,
Ultravox,
Hot Snakes,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Fela Kuti,
Moby Grape,
Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster.
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.