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 Kyrgyzstan and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Moebius to the rock 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 Glenn Branca. All the underground hits.
All Ultramagnetic MC's tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every London Community Gospel Choir 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Warsaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liliput,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
X-Ray Spex,
the Slits,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Maleditus Sound,
The Litter,
Spandau Ballet,
The Black Dice,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Walker Brothers,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Fatback Band,
Tres Demented,
Bobby Byrd,
Goldenarms,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Radiopuhelimet,
Livin' Joy,
Lee Hazlewood,
Organ,
Charles Mingus,
The Smiths,
Camouflage,
Johnny Clarke,
D'Angelo,
Soft Cell,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Yazoo,
The Slits,
Buzzcocks,
Radiohead,
The Busters,
Pet Shop Boys,
Black Sheep,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Velvet Underground,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Sight & Sound,
Circle Jerks,
Anakelly,
Todd Terry,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Newcleus,
Al Stewart,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Boogie Down Productions,
Pole,
Nick Fraelich,
Sixth Finger,
The Alarm Clocks,
MC5,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Fugs,
Black Moon,
Joe Finger,
Laurel Aitken,
Drive Like Jehu,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Moody Blues,
Banda Bassotti,
Bill Wells, Bill Wells, Bill Wells, Bill Wells.
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.