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 Somalia 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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 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 Oppenheimer Analysis to the grunge 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 Arthur Verocai. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers Ubiquity tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Loose Ends record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Second Layer record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monks,
Lebanon Hanover,
Youth Brigade,
Moby Grape,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Dirtbombs,
Sexual Harrassment,
Basic Channel,
Kevin Saunderson,
Ice-T,
Icehouse,
Wasted Youth,
Ronan,
H. Thieme,
Nico,
Rekid,
Kool Moe Dee,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
L. Decosne,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Rites of Spring,
The Cowsills,
New York Dolls,
Gil Scott Heron,
Harry Pussy,
One Last Wish,
Gong,
Archie Shepp,
the Soft Cell,
KRS-One,
Man Parrish,
Gang of Four,
Black Pus,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Warren Ellis,
Cameo,
Niagra,
the Bar-Kays,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Kurtis Blow,
Deadbeat,
Panda Bear,
The Electric Prunes,
Connie Case,
Unwound,
UT,
Anthony Braxton,
Kaleidoscope,
Black Sheep,
The Cramps,
Theoretical Girls,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Zapp,
The Fortunes,
Sandy B,
Absolute Body Control,
Whodini,
Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza.
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.