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 Dominica and from London.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Edmonton.
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 harpsichord 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 Blancmange to the electroclash 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 Mr. Review. All the underground hits.
All The Golliwogs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roxy Music record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faraquet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Litter,
Motorama,
Barclay James Harvest,
Danielle Patucci,
Kerri Chandler,
Mo-Dettes,
Lakeside,
Sandy B,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Happenings,
Maleditus Sound,
Newcleus,
The Dave Clark Five,
Donald Byrd,
The Monks,
Erasure,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Brothers Johnson,
Public Image Ltd.,
Unrelated Segments,
Reuben Wilson,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Eric Copeland,
Bluetip,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Dirtbombs,
Funky Four + One,
Severed Heads,
The Sound,
Heaven 17,
Kevin Saunderson,
Bauhaus,
10cc,
Cluster,
Electric Prunes,
Kool Moe Dee,
Dawn Penn,
Magazine,
The Moody Blues,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Gong,
Aswad,
Schoolly D,
Freddie Wadling,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Skarface,
Royal Trux,
Skriet,
Joensuu 1685,
Albert Ayler,
La Düsseldorf,
Soulsonic Force,
Ohio Players,
The Shadows of Knight,
Minor Threat,
Fela Kuti,
Country Teasers, Country Teasers, Country Teasers, Country Teasers.
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.