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 Rwanda and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Houston.
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 Tom Verlaine 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 Inner City 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 Roy Ayers Ubiquity. All the underground hits.
All Chris Corsano tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mummies record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crime record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moebius,
New Order,
Intrusion,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Blossom Toes,
Simply Red,
Freddie Wadling,
Minutemen,
Groovy Waters,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Desert Stars,
X-101,
Outsiders,
Supertramp,
Eric Dolphy,
ABC,
Alton Ellis,
The J.B.'s,
The Dead C,
Oneida,
The Mojo Men,
Arab on Radar,
Underground Resistance,
Radio Birdman,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Skarface,
Rites of Spring,
Zero Boys,
Saccharine Trust,
Niagra,
Hashim,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Inner City,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
London Community Gospel Choir,
This Heat,
Harry Pussy,
The Dave Clark Five,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Remains,
Visage,
James White and The Blacks,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Ten City,
Big Daddy Kane,
Panda Bear,
Crispian St. Peters,
R.M.O.,
Kaleidoscope,
T.S.O.L.,
Pierre Henry,
Symarip,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
DJ Style,
Bobby Womack,
the Association,
The Slackers,
JFA,
The Barracudas,
Angry Samoans,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Nico,
Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye.
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.