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 Cape Verde and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 808 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 The Red Krayola to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Mary Jane Girls. All the underground hits.
All Juan Atkins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lucky Dragons 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DeepChord presents Echospace record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Vogues,
Al Stewart,
Radiopuhelimet,
Soul II Soul,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Juan Atkins,
Amazonics,
The Mojo Men,
Don Cherry,
Von Mondo,
Absolute Body Control,
Junior Murvin,
Depeche Mode,
Mr. Review,
Lee Hazlewood,
The J.B.'s,
These Immortal Souls,
The Neon Judgement,
Lower 48,
Yazoo,
New York Dolls,
Man Eating Sloth,
Piero Umiliani,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Lyres,
Buzzcocks,
Jerry's Kids,
Angry Samoans,
Stiv Bators,
Tropical Tobacco,
Lou Christie,
Crooked Eye,
Ituana,
Jandek,
John Cale,
EPMD,
Josef K,
Sixth Finger,
Scott Walker,
F. McDonald,
The Fire Engines,
China Crisis,
Gregory Isaacs,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Black Bananas,
Subhumans,
The Birthday Party,
The Zeros,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Donny Hathaway,
Marine Girls,
Can,
Gong,
The Mummies,
Magma,
Ornette Coleman,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Nas,
Tim Buckley,
Mars,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy.
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.