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 Rwanda and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Beijing.
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 synthesizer 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 Kayak to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Crash Course in Science. All the underground hits.
All Michelle Simonal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mo-Dettes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Vaughan Mason & Crew record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Raincoats,
Excepter,
The Flesh Eaters,
Guru Guru,
Icehouse,
The Selecter,
Todd Rundgren,
Stetsasonic,
Bobby Womack,
Los Fastidios,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Electric Prunes,
The Seeds,
Make Up,
Eve St. Jones,
Siglo XX,
David Axelrod,
Dual Sessions,
The Real Kids,
Sun Ra,
Qualms,
Metal Thangz,
Tropical Tobacco,
Bobby Sherman,
Grey Daturas,
Delon & Dalcan,
Davy DMX,
Popol Vuh,
Blossom Toes,
Minny Pops,
LL Cool J,
Byron Stingily,
Gil Scott Heron,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Bad Manners,
MC5,
The Names,
Marine Girls,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Funky Four + One,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Howard Jones,
Zapp,
Don Cherry,
Amon Düül,
Rosa Yemen,
the Sonics,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Junior Murvin,
Amazonics,
Sugar Minott,
The Fall,
Oneida,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Gang Green,
Pere Ubu,
KRS-One,
10cc,
Alton Ellis,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Shadows of Knight,
Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle.
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.