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 Bahamas and from Copenhagen.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the guitar 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 Lucky Dragons to the jazz 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 Fort Wilson Riot. All the underground hits.
All Lyres tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Coltrane 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The American Breed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crooked Eye,
The Birthday Party,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Aural Exciters,
The Saints,
Big Daddy Kane,
Terry Callier,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Smiths,
Joy Division,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Nirvana,
Talk Talk,
Intrusion,
Harry Pussy,
Reagan Youth,
The Evens,
Piero Umiliani,
Eden Ahbez,
Absolute Body Control,
Kayak,
Graham Central Station,
Wasted Youth,
Carl Craig,
Radiopuhelimet,
Mandrill,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Japan,
The Dead C,
Peter and Kerry,
the Normal,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Janne Schatter,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Associates,
Hardrive,
Hashim,
Zero Boys,
Second Layer,
Warren Ellis,
Freddie Wadling,
CMW,
Black Sheep,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
JFA,
Newcleus,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Sound,
The Human League,
Lyres,
Mars,
Glenn Branca,
Public Enemy,
John Cale,
Rites of Spring,
Eddi Front,
Cybotron,
Bauhaus,
Organ, Organ, Organ, Organ.
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.