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 Andorra and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 mellotron 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 Bobbi Humphrey to the grunge 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 Blancmange. All the underground hits.
All Ten City tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Royal Family And The Poor 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Girls At Our Best! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Seeds,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Kurtis Blow,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Howard Jones,
F. McDonald,
Interpol,
Sugar Minott,
The Golliwogs,
Scrapy,
Warren Ellis,
Terry Callier,
the Association,
Danielle Patucci,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Young Marble Giants,
Fad Gadget,
Outsiders,
Aloha Tigers,
Scott Walker,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Saints,
Swans,
Hasil Adkins,
Animal Collective,
the Swans,
Stiv Bators,
Lyres,
Loose Ends,
Funkadelic,
Monolake,
Adolescents,
Pantytec,
Skaos,
The Real Kids,
Main Source,
Johnny Clarke,
Roy Ayers,
The Gap Band,
Barrington Levy,
Glenn Branca,
Lalo Schifrin,
Bang On A Can,
Roger Hodgson,
The Litter,
The Angels of Light,
Soft Machine,
Wings,
Mantronix,
Average White Band,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
PIL,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Carl Craig,
Yellowson,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Piero Umiliani,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Thompson Twins,
The Gladiators,
Ossler,
Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks.
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.