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 Guinea-Bissau and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 linndrum 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 Basic Channel to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Slick Rick. All the underground hits.
All Magma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Con Funk Shun record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a clarinet 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 organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Fugs,
Bill Near,
Aswad,
Index,
Joy Division,
X-101,
Janne Schatter,
U.S. Maple,
Procol Harum,
China Crisis,
Jacques Brel,
D'Angelo,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Thompson Twins,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Black Bananas,
Grauzone,
The Dead C,
Blake Baxter,
Kool Moe Dee,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Crispy Ambulance,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
EPMD,
The Saints,
The Angels of Light,
the Germs,
Tears for Fears,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Pantytec,
Pole,
The Kinks,
Crash Course in Science,
Visage,
The Motions,
Inner City,
Suicide,
Hoover,
JFA,
The Offenders,
Zapp,
The Remains,
Laurel Aitken,
The Vogues,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Todd Terry,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Urselle,
Peter & Gordon,
Man Eating Sloth,
Joey Negro,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Monks,
Scrapy,
Babytalk, Babytalk, Babytalk, Babytalk.
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.