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 Qatar and from Taipei.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 The United States of America to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Sound Behaviour. All the underground hits.
All Sunsets and Hearts tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hot Snakes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
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 Roy Ayers Ubiquity record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marcia Griffiths,
Barry Ungar,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Monks,
L. Decosne,
Radiopuhelimet,
T.S.O.L.,
Stiv Bators,
F. McDonald,
Gil Scott Heron,
Derrick Morgan,
Skaos,
Hashim,
Howard Jones,
Brand Nubian,
Thee Headcoats,
Maleditus Sound,
Ultravox,
Eden Ahbez,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Scientists,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Mary Jane Girls,
Henry Cow,
Pylon,
Lee Hazlewood,
Jacob Miller,
Lou Reed,
Harpers Bizarre,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Suicide,
Kool Moe Dee,
Danielle Patucci,
Freddie Wadling,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Vainqueur,
Camouflage,
Soft Cell,
Los Fastidios,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Morten Harket,
Stetsasonic,
Adolescents,
The Five Americans,
Zero Boys,
Wings,
Sound Behaviour,
Bootsy Collins,
Smog,
Wally Richardson,
Hardrive,
Sexual Harrassment,
Franke,
The Velvet Underground,
Donald Byrd,
Leonard Cohen,
The Tremeloes,
Unrelated Segments,
Porter Ricks,
Crime, Crime, Crime, Crime.
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.