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 Mozambique and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Fela Kuti to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Happenings. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every D'Angelo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 a güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nirvana record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord 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?
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Mark Hollis,
Joy Division,
Organ,
Mars,
kango's stein massive,
Electric Prunes,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Roxy Music,
Radio Birdman,
the Association,
Siglo XX,
Idris Muhammad,
Kenny Larkin,
Franke,
Swans,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Martian,
Guru Guru,
Fatback Band,
The Dave Clark Five,
Das Ding,
Matthew Bourne,
Ronnie Foster,
Sister Nancy,
Danielle Patucci,
Crispy Ambulance,
PIL,
Eurythmics,
Funkadelic,
Bill Wells,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Theoretical Girls,
Clear Light,
Sexual Harrassment,
Hoover,
The Pretty Things,
Gang of Four,
Unrelated Segments,
Stiv Bators,
Minny Pops,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Gladiators,
Suburban Knight,
Robert Wyatt,
The Leaves,
Laurel Aitken,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Cheater Slicks,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Janne Schatter,
Pagans,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Pierre Henry,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Inner City,
Supertramp,
The Techniques,
Porter Ricks,
OOIOO,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Index, The Index, The Index, The Index.
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.