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 Ireland and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Josef K to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Saccharine Trust. All the underground hits.
All R.M.O. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The New Christs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 mellotron and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mad Mike record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Niagra,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Index,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Dennis Brown,
Cymande,
Tom Boy,
David Bowie,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Scratch Acid,
Ituana,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
the Sonics,
Harpers Bizarre,
Aural Exciters,
Little Man,
Brothers Johnson,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Gang Green,
Eddi Front,
Radiohead,
Funky Four + One,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Tommy Roe,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Sun Ra,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Gladiators,
ABC,
The Misunderstood,
Wolf Eyes,
Nirvana,
Barbara Tucker,
Supertramp,
Gong,
James White and The Blacks,
the Fania All-Stars,
Icehouse,
Grandmaster Flash,
John Lydon,
Scott Walker,
Television Personalities,
Adolescents,
Davy DMX,
Pantytec,
The Toasters,
Angry Samoans,
Harry Pussy,
Bad Manners,
Joe Finger,
Robert Wyatt,
The Smiths,
Lyres,
Popol Vuh,
a-ha,
The Sound,
DJ Sneak,
Bluetip,
Throbbing Gristle,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Terrestrial Tones,
Bill Near,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson.
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.