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 Djibouti and from Tokyo.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the organ 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 The J.B.'s 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 Liliput. All the underground hits.
All Black Bananas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantytec record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
La Düsseldorf,
Newcleus,
Sonny Sharrock,
This Heat,
Oblivians,
Malaria!,
The Mummies,
Procol Harum,
Monolake,
Big Daddy Kane,
Henry Cow,
Pet Shop Boys,
Gang Green,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Flipper,
Tropical Tobacco,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Fuzztones,
John Coltrane,
MDC,
Bobby Sherman,
Porter Ricks,
Franke,
The Toasters,
Blancmange,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Theoretical Girls,
James White and The Blacks,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Beau Brummels,
the Normal,
Bluetip,
Kevin Saunderson,
the Germs,
Loose Ends,
Liliput,
These Immortal Souls,
The Fire Engines,
The Count Five,
F. McDonald,
Deakin,
Carl Craig,
DNA,
Robert Hood,
Quadrant,
Marvin Gaye,
T.S.O.L.,
Throbbing Gristle,
Tim Buckley,
Alton Ellis,
The Saints,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Move,
Faraquet,
the Slits,
Lebanon Hanover,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Swell Maps,
The Electric Prunes,
Gastr Del Sol,
Peter & Gordon, Peter & Gordon, Peter & Gordon, Peter & Gordon.
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.