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 Niger and from Sao Paulo.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 It's A Beautiful Day to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Radiopuhelimet. All the underground hits.
All Black Sheep tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mandrill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Supertramp,
Clear Light,
EPMD,
Pantytec,
The Slackers,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Sister Nancy,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Yaz,
Magazine,
The Cowsills,
Vladislav Delay,
Main Source,
The Dirtbombs,
Tommy Roe,
Fugazi,
Dual Sessions,
Cecil Taylor,
Frankie Knuckles,
Youth Brigade,
Groovy Waters,
The United States of America,
Al Stewart,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Soul II Soul,
Ice-T,
Stereo Dub,
The Music Machine,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Darondo,
Sonny Sharrock,
Swans,
Delon & Dalcan,
Harpers Bizarre,
Roy Ayers,
Country Teasers,
Ronnie Foster,
Shuggie Otis,
Jerry Gold Smith,
the Soft Cell,
Skriet,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Man Eating Sloth,
Fat Boys,
The Techniques,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Human League,
Electric Prunes,
Maurizio,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Minor Threat,
Scott Walker,
Sugar Minott,
Crime,
Black Pus,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Reagan Youth,
Massinfluence,
The Toasters,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Monolake,
Ornette Coleman,
John Coltrane, John Coltrane, John Coltrane, John Coltrane.
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.