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 Iran and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Winnipeg.
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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Associates to the disco 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 The Selecter. All the underground hits.
All The Gap Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Groovy Waters 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thee Headcoats record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fire Engines,
Eve St. Jones,
June of 44,
The Toasters,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Half Japanese,
The Pretty Things,
Dark Day,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Busters,
R.M.O.,
Black Pus,
The Zeros,
China Crisis,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Darondo,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Excepter,
The Index,
Boredoms,
Hardrive,
Moebius,
Byron Stingily,
Slick Rick,
Erasure,
Pole,
Deakin,
The Slits,
Dorothy Ashby,
Sexual Harrassment,
Man Eating Sloth,
Moby Grape,
Bang On A Can,
Fela Kuti,
Harpers Bizarre,
Easy Going,
Los Fastidios,
Nils Olav,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Marshall Jefferson,
the Bar-Kays,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Lou Christie,
Johnny Osbourne,
Fatback Band,
Chris & Cosey,
Popol Vuh,
The Beau Brummels,
a-ha,
Mars,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Leaves,
Youth Brigade,
Connie Case,
Bob Dylan,
Nico,
Lalo Schifrin,
Albert Ayler,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Angels of Light,
Chris Corsano,
Brand Nubian,
Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles.
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.