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 Palau and from Accra.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Dark Day to the rap 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 The Modern Lovers. All the underground hits.
All Jerry Gold Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Todd Rundgren record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yellowson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Reuben Wilson,
Graham Central Station,
Y Pants,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Monks,
K-Klass,
Supertramp,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Boogie Down Productions,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Angels of Light,
Amazonics,
Gerry Rafferty,
Janne Schatter,
Symarip,
Rites of Spring,
Hot Snakes,
T. Rex,
Television,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Altered Images,
Joe Smooth,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Sly & The Family Stone,
JFA,
Michelle Simonal,
Neil Young,
The Flesh Eaters,
Bluetip,
The Mummies,
The Black Dice,
Inner City,
Ohio Players,
Interpol,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Fear,
Hardrive,
the Bar-Kays,
Judy Mowatt,
Blancmange,
Rhythm & Sound,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
a-ha,
Stereo Dub,
Public Image Ltd.,
Black Bananas,
DJ Style,
Tom Boy,
48th St. Collective,
Easy Going,
Radio Birdman,
Accadde A,
Morten Harket,
Avey Tare,
Khruangbin,
Ossler,
Alphaville,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters.
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.