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 Morocco and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Saccharine Trust to the punk 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 Inner City. All the underground hits.
All Cabaret Voltaire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deadbeat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 808 and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Matthew Halsall,
The Mojo Men,
Bobby Byrd,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Bob Dylan,
a-ha,
Tres Demented,
Grauzone,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Alton Ellis,
The New Christs,
Lungfish,
Albert Ayler,
Kevin Saunderson,
Skaos,
X-Ray Spex,
One Last Wish,
The Human League,
Simply Red,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Eurythmics,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Morten Harket,
Derrick May,
Tropical Tobacco,
Little Man,
Grey Daturas,
The Selecter,
Mark Hollis,
This Heat,
Gil Scott Heron,
Con Funk Shun,
Carl Craig,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Outsiders,
Hoover,
Pulsallama,
PIL,
Panda Bear,
The Monks,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
T.S.O.L.,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
the Sonics,
Crash Course in Science,
The Dave Clark Five,
Quantec,
E-Dancer,
Royal Trux,
Au Pairs,
Tubeway Army,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
La Düsseldorf,
Metal Thangz,
The Buckinghams,
Anthony Braxton,
Joyce Sims,
Cal Tjader,
Peter & Gordon,
Moby Grape,
Toni Rubio,
Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic.
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.