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 Nauru and from Madrid.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Man Parrish to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Sad Lovers and Giants. All the underground hits.
All Magma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Germs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Real Kids,
Qualms,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
DJ Style,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
the Germs,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Gastr Del Sol,
The American Breed,
Siglo XX,
Camberwell Now,
John Foxx,
The Alarm Clocks,
Slick Rick,
Make Up,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Divine Comedy,
Gerry Rafferty,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Marshall Jefferson,
Graham Central Station,
Flipper,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Howard Jones,
Underground Resistance,
Magma,
Monks,
Arab on Radar,
Fear,
Chris & Cosey,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Selecter,
Mo-Dettes,
Lungfish,
The Litter,
Max Romeo,
Quadrant,
Negative Approach,
Rotary Connection,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Bootsy Collins,
The Smoke,
Electric Prunes,
The Durutti Column,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Tubeway Army,
Letta Mbulu,
Sexual Harrassment,
Arthur Verocai,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Mars,
Prince Buster,
Fatback Band,
Andrew Hill,
Skaos,
Audionom,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Slackers,
New Age Steppers,
Unrelated Segments, Unrelated Segments, Unrelated Segments, Unrelated Segments.
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.