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 Russia and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Das Ding to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All U.S. Maple tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The J.B.'s record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New Order record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeff Mills,
Lightning Bolt,
Suburban Knight,
Carl Craig,
Chrome,
Easy Going,
Niagra,
Public Enemy,
Sister Nancy,
B.T. Express,
Pierre Henry,
The Names,
Stockholm Monsters,
Nico,
Clear Light,
Graham Central Station,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Cowsills,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Neu!,
Wolf Eyes,
Tropical Tobacco,
the Soft Cell,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Kinks,
Neil Young,
Peter & Gordon,
Hardrive,
Isaac Hayes,
Icehouse,
X-Ray Spex,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Peter and Kerry,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
X-101,
Wasted Youth,
Nik Kershaw,
The Buckinghams,
Pet Shop Boys,
David Axelrod,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Gun Club,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
X-102,
Young Marble Giants,
The Raincoats,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Drexciya,
Joyce Sims,
The Count Five,
Lakeside,
Don Cherry,
Bluetip,
Susan Cadogan,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Mary Jane Girls,
Agent Orange,
The Last Poets,
Mr. Review,
Dennis Brown,
Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill.
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.