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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 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 Glambeats Corp. to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Ultramagnetic MC's. All the underground hits.
All The Gories tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brass Construction 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sonic Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T.S.O.L.,
The Young Rascals,
Harmonia,
Skarface,
Skaos,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Malaria!,
Spoonie Gee,
Moby Grape,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Lakeside,
John Cale,
The Velvet Underground,
John Lydon,
Susan Cadogan,
Talk Talk,
Urselle,
Bizarre Inc.,
Kenny Larkin,
Icehouse,
Sun Ra,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Public Image Ltd.,
Liliput,
Radio Birdman,
Porter Ricks,
Lightning Bolt,
Bauhaus,
Neil Young,
Con Funk Shun,
Mars,
Radiopuhelimet,
ABC,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Smiths,
Wally Richardson,
In Retrospect,
Tommy Roe,
Ohio Players,
Terry Callier,
Lou Christie,
Y Pants,
Dark Day,
Mr. Review,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Associates,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Music Machine,
Mark Hollis,
World's Most,
Sonny Sharrock,
Arab on Radar,
The Blues Magoos,
The Raincoats,
A Certain Ratio,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Prince Buster,
Das Ding,
Man Parrish,
Bang On A Can,
Mission of Burma,
Index, Index, Index, 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.