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 Costa Rica and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 rhodes 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 Scott Walker + Sunn O))) to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Crooked Eye. All the underground hits.
All Mandrill tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cabaret Voltaire record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mad Mike record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Liliput,
The Smiths,
The Golliwogs,
Reuben Wilson,
Tears for Fears,
Frankie Knuckles,
Barclay James Harvest,
Tommy Roe,
Max Romeo,
Danielle Patucci,
Circle Jerks,
Ronan,
Heaven 17,
Talk Talk,
Kerrie Biddell,
Nick Fraelich,
Rites of Spring,
Camouflage,
Crispy Ambulance,
Au Pairs,
Don Cherry,
Hardrive,
Interpol,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Cowsills,
Zero Boys,
Tim Buckley,
Los Fastidios,
Soft Cell,
PIL,
The Selecter,
David McCallum,
The Grass Roots,
Brick,
The Zeros,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Yazoo,
Rekid,
Arthur Verocai,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Mandrill,
Jawbox,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Fat Boys,
EPMD,
Joe Finger,
Erasure,
Kenny Larkin,
Banda Bassotti,
Jacques Brel,
The Searchers,
Radiopuhelimet,
Big Daddy Kane,
FM Einheit,
Popol Vuh,
Scrapy,
Susan Cadogan,
The New Christs,
Nas,
Crispian St. Peters,
Alice Coltrane,
John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx.
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.