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 Kosovo and from Lille.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 sitar 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 the 40 Watt.
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 The Peanut Butter Conspiracy. All the underground hits.
All Crooked Eye tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every June of 44 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Siglo XX record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dave Gahan,
Fad Gadget,
MDC,
Lee Hazlewood,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Shadows of Knight,
Deadbeat,
Los Fastidios,
Avey Tare,
Gong,
Girls At Our Best!,
Gastr Del Sol,
Eddi Front,
Arcadia,
Stiv Bators,
Skriet,
John Coltrane,
Heaven 17,
B.T. Express,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Names,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Gories,
The Remains,
The Kinks,
K-Klass,
PIL,
Oneida,
Grey Daturas,
Gichy Dan,
Iggy Pop,
Pantaleimon,
Gang Starr,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Jeff Lynne,
Gregory Isaacs,
Brick,
Nik Kershaw,
Deakin,
Max Romeo,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
John Foxx,
ABC,
Robert Hood,
Pussy Galore,
Crispy Ambulance,
Crooked Eye,
Junior Murvin,
X-102,
The Monks,
Dead Boys,
Trumans Water,
Goldenarms,
Colin Newman,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Amon Düül II,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Ossler,
Marine Girls,
Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry.
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.