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 Senegal and from Paris.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Ken Boothe to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Fortunes. All the underground hits.
All KRS-One tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liliput record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rufus Thomas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Residents,
Underground Resistance,
Infiniti,
48th St. Collective,
Tom Boy,
ABBA,
Subhumans,
Nation of Ulysses,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Victims,
Crispy Ambulance,
Ultravox,
X-101,
CMW,
Albert Ayler,
Freddie Wadling,
Faraquet,
Harry Pussy,
James White and The Blacks,
Neil Young,
Rakim,
PIL,
Bill Wells,
Model 500,
Motorama,
U.S. Maple,
The Invisible,
Dorothy Ashby,
Hoover,
Soul II Soul,
Second Layer,
Visage,
Bush Tetras,
D'Angelo,
Eli Mardock,
Janne Schatter,
Metal Thangz,
The Black Dice,
Dave Gahan,
Barclay James Harvest,
Can,
Pierre Henry,
Joensuu 1685,
Crime,
Big Daddy Kane,
MDC,
LL Cool J,
Rufus Thomas,
Man Parrish,
Panda Bear,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Stooges,
Soul Sonic Force,
Lalann,
Nick Fraelich,
Depeche Mode,
Aural Exciters,
The Gladiators,
Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day.
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.