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 Bhutan and from Madrid.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Human League to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Sixth Finger. All the underground hits.
All Ludus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agitation Free,
The Neon Judgement,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Nik Kershaw,
Ossler,
Roy Ayers,
Goldenarms,
Sister Nancy,
Depeche Mode,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Chris Corsano,
The Flesh Eaters,
EPMD,
The Young Rascals,
X-Ray Spex,
Interpol,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Echospace,
Morten Harket,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Camberwell Now,
Wings,
Guru Guru,
The Gories,
Sexual Harrassment,
Radiopuhelimet,
Barrington Levy,
Trumans Water,
The Black Dice,
Ohio Players,
The Angels of Light,
The Techniques,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
DNA,
Supertramp,
Adolescents,
Prince Buster,
The Beau Brummels,
Public Image Ltd.,
Aswad,
Sarah Menescal,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Porter Ricks,
Scratch Acid,
Altered Images,
Crispian St. Peters,
Soft Machine,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Rakim,
The Pretty Things,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Boredoms,
Simply Red,
Kayak,
Tom Boy,
The Standells,
The Last Poets,
the Fania All-Stars,
Electric Prunes,
The Busters,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Pylon,
Fear,
Smog, Smog, Smog, Smog.
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.