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 Switzerland and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 chamberlin 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 Scratch Acid to the disco 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 Ohio Players. All the underground hits.
All Liaisons Dangereuses tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Organ 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mary Jane Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spandau Ballet,
Marmalade,
Popol Vuh,
The Red Krayola,
Graham Central Station,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Oneida,
Moby Grape,
Sixth Finger,
Kayak,
Marc Almond,
Gastr Del Sol,
Black Moon,
Davy DMX,
Index,
OOIOO,
Gregory Isaacs,
X-Ray Spex,
Soft Cell,
Archie Shepp,
Lalann,
Anthony Braxton,
Cymande,
Scrapy,
Ossler,
Groovy Waters,
Hashim,
The Buckinghams,
The Monks,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Young Rascals,
Wings,
R.M.O.,
Alphaville,
Basic Channel,
Supertramp,
Gichy Dan,
The United States of America,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
ABC,
Infiniti,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Quando Quango,
Franke,
The Sound,
Cecil Taylor,
Harmonia,
Pagans,
The Modern Lovers,
Charles Mingus,
Toni Rubio,
The Last Poets,
Talk Talk,
Delta 5,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Warsaw,
Mr. Review,
Judy Mowatt,
Gang of Four,
Shoche,
The Cramps,
Shuggie Otis,
Rekid,
The Five Americans, The Five Americans, The Five Americans, The Five Americans.
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.