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 Solomon Islands and from Jakarta.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
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 Magma to the dance 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 Porter Ricks. All the underground hits.
All Laurel Aitken tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James Chance & The Contortions 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Searchers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Big Daddy Kane,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Throbbing Gristle,
Lightning Bolt,
FM Einheit,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Essential Logic,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Janne Schatter,
X-Ray Spex,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Audionom,
The Divine Comedy,
Toni Rubio,
The Index,
F. McDonald,
Terrestrial Tones,
Bill Near,
Black Bananas,
Robert Hood,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
La Düsseldorf,
Fatback Band,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Lee Hazlewood,
Connie Case,
Magma,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Tommy Roe,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Dennis Brown,
John Coltrane,
Depeche Mode,
Spoonie Gee,
Bobby Sherman,
The Human League,
Suburban Knight,
John Holt,
Judy Mowatt,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Deakin,
Cybotron,
Josef K,
Lucky Dragons,
Girls At Our Best!,
ABBA,
Gabor Szabo,
Sister Nancy,
World's Most,
Popol Vuh,
Minnie Riperton,
Make Up,
The Doors,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Chrome,
Franke,
Bang On A Can,
Todd Rundgren,
Sun Ra,
Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye.
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.