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 Bulgaria 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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and London.
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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Fortunes 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 48th St. Collective. All the underground hits.
All N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sonics 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James White and The Blacks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Infiniti,
Fear,
The Smiths,
The Golliwogs,
Delon & Dalcan,
Ituana,
Royal Trux,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Robert Hood,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Y Pants,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Grey Daturas,
James Chance & The Contortions,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Soul II Soul,
Lindisfarne,
Sound Behaviour,
Jeff Mills,
Terry Callier,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Jeru the Damaja,
Index,
JFA,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Underground Resistance,
Sparks,
Letta Mbulu,
Sonny Sharrock,
This Heat,
Funky Four + One,
Quando Quango,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Ponytail,
Von Mondo,
Smog,
The Durutti Column,
The J.B.'s,
Susan Cadogan,
the Slits,
Surgeon,
The Busters,
Ohio Players,
Easy Going,
Electric Prunes,
Black Moon,
Sällskapet,
Derrick May,
Youth Brigade,
Slave,
Soulsonic Force,
Kool Moe Dee,
Nation of Ulysses,
Terrestrial Tones,
Girls At Our Best!,
Black Flag,
Excepter,
Organ,
Skriet,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
the Germs,
The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes.
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.