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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 guitar 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 DeepChord presents Echospace to the funk 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 David Axelrod. All the underground hits.
All Infiniti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every One Last Wish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Starr record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hot Snakes,
Robert Hood,
Swell Maps,
Gerry Rafferty,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Byron Stingily,
Black Pus,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Sonics,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Raincoats,
Franke,
Suburban Knight,
The Modern Lovers,
The Fortunes,
Cybotron,
Anthony Braxton,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Inner City,
China Crisis,
Barbara Tucker,
Todd Rundgren,
The Slits,
Wasted Youth,
The Gun Club,
Bobby Byrd,
Laurel Aitken,
The Busters,
The Detroit Cobras,
B.T. Express,
Dark Day,
The Remains,
Fluxion,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Bang On A Can,
Harmonia,
Kenny Larkin,
Pylon,
Gang Green,
Janne Schatter,
Thee Headcoats,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Count Five,
the Germs,
Pet Shop Boys,
Amon Düül,
Ituana,
Von Mondo,
Deadbeat,
Basic Channel,
Henry Cow,
Nick Fraelich,
The Fall,
Pagans,
A Certain Ratio,
Intrusion,
The Dead C,
Johnny Osbourne,
Gregory Isaacs,
Q and Not U,
This Heat,
F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald.
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.