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 Portland.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 James White and The Blacks to the crunk 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 Cheater Slicks. All the underground hits.
All Arcadia tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radiopuhelimet 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fad Gadget record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Alphaville,
Big Daddy Kane,
These Immortal Souls,
Nico,
the Association,
Agent Orange,
Intrusion,
Rites of Spring,
Fat Boys,
Steve Hackett,
Excepter,
The Golliwogs,
Circle Jerks,
Lee Hazlewood,
Judy Mowatt,
Gerry Rafferty,
Graham Central Station,
The Names,
Idris Muhammad,
The Angels of Light,
DJ Style,
The Human League,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Blancmange,
EPMD,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Doors,
Howard Jones,
The Smiths,
Eric Copeland,
Reuben Wilson,
Angry Samoans,
Ultravox,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Adolescents,
Monks,
Zapp,
The Misunderstood,
Tom Boy,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Hasil Adkins,
Das Ding,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
June of 44,
Chris & Cosey,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Drive Like Jehu,
Scientists,
Pierre Henry,
Althea and Donna,
Kenny Larkin,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Jerry's Kids,
The J.B.'s,
Sixth Finger,
Basic Channel,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Kas Product,
Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco.
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.