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 Kyrgyzstan and from Seoul.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Scott Walker to the electroclash 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 Sam Rivers. All the underground hits.
All Amon Düül tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Model 500 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Durutti Column record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Reuben Wilson,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Monks,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Eric B and Rakim,
Derrick May,
the Association,
CMW,
Kaleidoscope,
JFA,
Altered Images,
David McCallum,
Erykah Badu,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
New Order,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
FM Einheit,
Monolake,
Moss Icon,
The Leaves,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Malaria!,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Smiths,
Ken Boothe,
Agent Orange,
Dave Gahan,
Lakeside,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Outsiders,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Eve St. Jones,
Josef K,
Funkadelic,
Graham Central Station,
Flipper,
Niagra,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Trojans,
Stiv Bators,
Dawn Penn,
Can,
Brothers Johnson,
Radio Birdman,
Saccharine Trust,
The Misunderstood,
Scrapy,
Cecil Taylor,
Khruangbin,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Marine Girls,
Pussy Galore,
Pole,
Ludus,
Television Personalities,
Index,
Bob Dylan,
Metal Thangz,
Curtis Mayfield,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Soulsonic Force, Soulsonic Force, Soulsonic Force, Soulsonic Force.
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.