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 Singapore and from Manchester.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Dave Clark Five 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 Matthew Halsall. All the underground hits.
All Accadde A tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suburban Knight 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed & Metallica record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Infiniti,
Flipper,
Niagra,
Mo-Dettes,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Big Daddy Kane,
DJ Style,
The Index,
H. Thieme,
Depeche Mode,
Model 500,
Kevin Saunderson,
Kas Product,
AZ,
Masters at Work,
Roger Hodgson,
The Vogues,
Organ,
The Fire Engines,
Audionom,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Black Dice,
Nation of Ulysses,
R.M.O.,
Joensuu 1685,
The Standells,
Howard Jones,
Maleditus Sound,
LL Cool J,
The Gun Club,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
FM Einheit,
Wasted Youth,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Harmonia,
Throbbing Gristle,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Eli Mardock,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Litter,
Jerry's Kids,
kango's stein massive,
Idris Muhammad,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Aloha Tigers,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Curtis Mayfield,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The United States of America,
The Dead C,
Magazine,
The Slits,
New Order,
Make Up,
the Sonics,
Stetsasonic,
Yazoo,
The Walker Brothers,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Hot Snakes,
The Angels of Light,
Godley & Creme,
Josef K, Josef K, Josef K, Josef K.
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.