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 South Sudan and from Tehran.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 The Victims to the rap 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 Pantaleimon. All the underground hits.
All The Invisible tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Angels of Light 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin 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 Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispian St. Peters,
Monolake,
The Young Rascals,
Goldenarms,
Shuggie Otis,
Grauzone,
Boogie Down Productions,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Saints,
Ohio Players,
The Fire Engines,
T.S.O.L.,
Reuben Wilson,
the Normal,
Eric Copeland,
Tomorrow,
Boredoms,
Jeff Mills,
The Victims,
The Gun Club,
Delta 5,
T. Rex,
Graham Central Station,
the Swans,
Traffic Nightmare,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Faraquet,
Gastr Del Sol,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Real Kids,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Aswad,
Jimmy McGriff,
Bob Dylan,
Electric Prunes,
Sam Rivers,
Ituana,
Isaac Hayes,
Drive Like Jehu,
Curtis Mayfield,
Cluster,
Harmonia,
The Moleskins,
Sex Pistols,
Audionom,
Liliput,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Donald Byrd,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Soul II Soul,
Smog,
Todd Terry,
Jacob Miller,
Sonic Youth,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Nirvana,
Anthony Braxton,
Arthur Verocai,
Eve St. Jones,
Bobby Womack,
Inner City,
The Busters, The Busters, The Busters, The Busters.
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.