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 Dominican Republic and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron 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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Yellowson to the dance 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 Alice Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All Jerry Gold Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cramps 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cheater Slicks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
R.M.O.,
Kaleidoscope,
Pulsallama,
The Durutti Column,
Faraquet,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Cal Tjader,
Idris Muhammad,
PIL,
Tubeway Army,
Talk Talk,
Moebius,
Marcia Griffiths,
Josef K,
Con Funk Shun,
The Kinks,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Cowsills,
E-Dancer,
B.T. Express,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Althea and Donna,
Bootsy Collins,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Monks,
The Fuzztones,
Can,
Shuggie Otis,
Danielle Patucci,
D'Angelo,
David McCallum,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
New Order,
Nirvana,
Essential Logic,
Dave Gahan,
La Düsseldorf,
the Human League,
Mantronix,
Khruangbin,
Delta 5,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Rapeman,
Flash Fearless,
Average White Band,
Wasted Youth,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Hoover,
Warsaw,
Index,
Tommy Roe,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Rod Modell,
Joe Finger,
Franke,
Lucky Dragons,
Loose Ends,
Harry Pussy,
Roxy Music,
Monolake, Monolake, Monolake, Monolake.
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.