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 Kosovo and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 David Bowie 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 Robert Hood to the electroclash 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 Ken Boothe. All the underground hits.
All the Swans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Brass Construction,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Gladiators,
The Electric Prunes,
Anthony Braxton,
This Heat,
The Buckinghams,
Ohio Players,
Thee Headcoats,
Symarip,
Tommy Roe,
Second Layer,
Soul II Soul,
Arcadia,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Misunderstood,
Neil Young,
Das Ding,
Oneida,
Eric B and Rakim,
Harry Pussy,
Royal Trux,
Jeff Mills,
Wings,
Moebius,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Sight & Sound,
Nation of Ulysses,
Dorothy Ashby,
Skriet,
John Holt,
Archie Shepp,
Main Source,
The Residents,
Cybotron,
Man Eating Sloth,
CMW,
Altered Images,
Rosa Yemen,
The Divine Comedy,
Sun City Girls,
The Saints,
Stetsasonic,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Con Funk Shun,
Freddie Wadling,
Crime,
The Birthday Party,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
8 Eyed Spy,
Jesper Dahlback,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Ornette Coleman,
Spandau Ballet,
Monks,
Godley & Creme,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Lightning Bolt,
Gong,
The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves.
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.