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 Burkina 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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 F. McDonald to the dance 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 American Breed. All the underground hits.
All Joyce Sims tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every AZ 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fort Wilson Riot,
Amon Düül,
the Sonics,
Funkadelic,
ABBA,
Sarah Menescal,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Bluetip,
Darondo,
Harmonia,
Sugar Minott,
Index,
The Gun Club,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Con Funk Shun,
New Age Steppers,
Lucky Dragons,
Faraquet,
Arcadia,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Mummies,
Cheater Slicks,
Liliput,
The Seeds,
Ultimate Spinach,
Fela Kuti,
Grandmaster Flash,
Icehouse,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Thee Headcoats,
Second Layer,
Das Ding,
Visage,
Jawbox,
Gang Starr,
Dark Day,
Thompson Twins,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Japan,
Babytalk,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Rakim,
The Black Dice,
Wolf Eyes,
Electric Prunes,
Little Man,
Essential Logic,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Barracudas,
Joe Finger,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Wally Richardson,
Adolescents,
Yazoo,
The Electric Prunes,
Man Eating Sloth,
Sex Pistols,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
John Coltrane,
Rites of Spring,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Crash Course in Science,
It's A Beautiful Day, It's A Beautiful Day, It's A Beautiful Day, It's A Beautiful Day.
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.