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 Mauritius and from Milan.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 John Lydon to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Detroit Cobras. All the underground hits.
All Jerry's Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James White and The Blacks 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Music Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Derrick May,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Clear Light,
Eden Ahbez,
Gang of Four,
Juan Atkins,
Tomorrow,
The Flesh Eaters,
Scott Walker,
Marvin Gaye,
Brass Construction,
Junior Murvin,
Crispian St. Peters,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Robert Görl,
Das Ding,
Schoolly D,
Black Pus,
Idris Muhammad,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Hoover,
Metal Thangz,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Joyce Sims,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Shadows of Knight,
Ponytail,
Iggy Pop,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Aswad,
Dead Boys,
Minnie Riperton,
Chrome,
John Lydon,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Barclay James Harvest,
Nico,
Isaac Hayes,
The Blues Magoos,
The Barracudas,
Dorothy Ashby,
the Germs,
The Modern Lovers,
Rosa Yemen,
Lungfish,
Index,
Anakelly,
Massinfluence,
Chris & Cosey,
Severed Heads,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Deadbeat,
Fela Kuti,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Chris Corsano,
Easy Going,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Porter Ricks,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes, Justin Hinds & The Dominoes, Justin Hinds & The Dominoes, Justin Hinds & The Dominoes.
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.