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 Philippines and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 Mexico City and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 arpeggiator 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 The Human League to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Parry Music. All the underground hits.
All Cabaret Voltaire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Prince Buster 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rhythm & Sound,
Vainqueur,
Matthew Halsall,
Zero Boys,
X-Ray Spex,
Ronan,
Nas,
Wire,
The Cowsills,
New York Dolls,
Y Pants,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
June of 44,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Slits,
The Fire Engines,
Royal Trux,
Intrusion,
The Divine Comedy,
The Knickerbockers,
Brass Construction,
Underground Resistance,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
H. Thieme,
The Gladiators,
Fluxion,
Fatback Band,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Gun Club,
Reagan Youth,
Echospace,
Eddi Front,
X-101,
Tears for Fears,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Don Cherry,
The Cramps,
Howard Jones,
Flash Fearless,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Crime,
Sam Rivers,
Neil Young,
Urselle,
Groovy Waters,
Derrick May,
Archie Shepp,
Khruangbin,
Bad Manners,
The Fall,
Cheater Slicks,
Index,
Nils Olav,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Banda Bassotti,
Barrington Levy,
The Dead C,
Pussy Galore,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Josef K,
The Neon Judgement,
MDC, MDC, MDC, MDC.
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.