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 Cambodia and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Chris Corsano 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 Banda Bassotti. All the underground hits.
All Slave tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris & Cosey record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a marimba 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 chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Index,
Carl Craig,
Soulsonic Force,
The New Christs,
Talk Talk,
Lou Christie,
Funkadelic,
Intrusion,
Cymande,
Niagra,
The Gories,
Moss Icon,
Bob Dylan,
June of 44,
Gil Scott Heron,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
the Soft Cell,
The Monochrome Set,
H. Thieme,
Bill Wells,
The Star Department,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Nils Olav,
Morten Harket,
Anthony Braxton,
Popol Vuh,
a-ha,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Detroit Cobras,
R.M.O.,
Suburban Knight,
The Grass Roots,
The Index,
Y Pants,
Clear Light,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Techniques,
E-Dancer,
Khruangbin,
Bad Manners,
Fat Boys,
Bobby Womack,
Angry Samoans,
The Leaves,
Subhumans,
June Days,
The Standells,
Blancmange,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Blake Baxter,
Japan,
Alice Coltrane,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Kerrie Biddell,
Chrome,
Black Sheep,
Barclay James Harvest,
Lindisfarne,
Cal Tjader,
Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai.
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.