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 Johannesburg.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the 808 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 Brand Nubian to the disco 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 Marvin Gaye. All the underground hits.
All Kevin Saunderson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suicide record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Judy Mowatt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Neon Judgement,
Black Bananas,
Spandau Ballet,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Organ,
Peter & Gordon,
Pagans,
Harry Pussy,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Jimmy McGriff,
Marshall Jefferson,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Sisters of Mercy,
F. McDonald,
Grandmaster Flash,
Technova,
The Divine Comedy,
Magma,
Sun City Girls,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Pretty Things,
DJ Sneak,
Yazoo,
The Detroit Cobras,
The American Breed,
DJ Style,
Country Teasers,
Deakin,
Whodini,
Thompson Twins,
The Mummies,
Arcadia,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Bang On A Can,
Rapeman,
X-101,
Colin Newman,
Swans,
Hoover,
Pet Shop Boys,
Sam Rivers,
Interpol,
The Misunderstood,
Von Mondo,
A Certain Ratio,
Graham Central Station,
Rod Modell,
Guru Guru,
Grauzone,
Sex Pistols,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Hashim,
June of 44,
Ten City,
Soulsonic Force,
Barclay James Harvest,
Yusef Lateef,
The Vogues,
the Germs,
Amon Düül II,
Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick.
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.