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 Colombia and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 Copenhagen and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Little Man. All the underground hits.
All Oppenheimer Analysis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alice Coltrane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skriet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fall,
Glenn Branca,
Blancmange,
Grey Daturas,
Slave,
Ronan,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Nirvana,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Monolake,
Archie Shepp,
Camouflage,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
John Cale,
Angry Samoans,
Scratch Acid,
Colin Newman,
the Bar-Kays,
Skaos,
Kerrie Biddell,
Second Layer,
Scan 7,
Girls At Our Best!,
Bill Wells,
Blossom Toes,
John Foxx,
Donald Byrd,
The Residents,
Quando Quango,
The Move,
Malaria!,
Sparks,
Spoonie Gee,
Wally Richardson,
Alison Limerick,
Rakim,
Harry Pussy,
cv313,
Nick Fraelich,
Index,
Pylon,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Lalo Schifrin,
Ponytail,
The Slackers,
Warren Ellis,
Brand Nubian,
Technova,
Iggy Pop,
Accadde A,
Das Ding,
The Velvet Underground,
Connie Case,
Sugar Minott,
Television,
Adolescents,
La Düsseldorf,
Faust,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters.
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.