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 Seychelles and from Manchester.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Letta Mbulu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Justin Hinds & The Dominoes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Siglo XX record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tubeway Army,
Gang Starr,
Robert Hood,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Morten Harket,
Ken Boothe,
Rod Modell,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Names,
the Association,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Mantronix,
Rhythm & Sound,
Piero Umiliani,
The Birthday Party,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Hot Snakes,
Howard Jones,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Boogie Down Productions,
Johnny Clarke,
Kayak,
Blake Baxter,
Scratch Acid,
Vainqueur,
Jawbox,
The Pop Group,
Ornette Coleman,
Hasil Adkins,
Infiniti,
cv313,
Faust,
Simply Red,
The Associates,
Kerrie Biddell,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Eli Mardock,
The Gladiators,
New York Dolls,
Lalann,
The Standells,
Second Layer,
A Certain Ratio,
Ohio Players,
Eve St. Jones,
Das Ding,
Lightning Bolt,
Moebius,
The Red Krayola,
The American Breed,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Martian,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Man Parrish,
John Holt,
Interpol,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Archie Shepp,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Traffic Nightmare,
Bang On A Can,
Aaron Thompson,
Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff.
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.