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 Benin and from Bremen.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Pulsallama to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Chris & Cosey. All the underground hits.
All Harpers Bizarre tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Doors 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scion record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Circle Jerks,
Flipper,
ABBA,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
T.S.O.L.,
Yusef Lateef,
Marmalade,
DNA,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Gories,
Black Pus,
Newcleus,
kango's stein massive,
New York Dolls,
Soft Cell,
Wings,
Todd Rundgren,
Youth Brigade,
Jawbox,
Kerri Chandler,
The Star Department,
Gastr Del Sol,
Byron Stingily,
Jesper Dahlback,
Pantaleimon,
The Mummies,
UT,
Morten Harket,
Harpers Bizarre,
Avey Tare,
La Düsseldorf,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Arthur Verocai,
Aaron Thompson,
Jeff Mills,
Jandek,
The Martian,
Neu!,
Wire,
Metal Thangz,
Boredoms,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Wally Richardson,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Tom Boy,
The American Breed,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Spandau Ballet,
The Moody Blues,
Bob Dylan,
The Doobie Brothers,
Fluxion,
Thompson Twins,
The Cure,
The Skatalites,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Cal Tjader,
Deepchord,
MDC,
T. Rex,
The Smiths,
Faust,
June of 44, June of 44, June of 44, June of 44.
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.