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 Seychelles and from Beijing.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Red Krayola to the electroclash 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 Gregory Isaacs. All the underground hits.
All Maurizio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Popol Vuh record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pantytec record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Depeche Mode,
KRS-One,
John Coltrane,
X-101,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Matthew Halsall,
Reuben Wilson,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Colin Newman,
R.M.O.,
Terry Callier,
The Gories,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Offenders,
Radio Birdman,
The Walker Brothers,
The Misunderstood,
The Fortunes,
Theoretical Girls,
Unrelated Segments,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Fuzztones,
Ice-T,
Man Parrish,
Crash Course in Science,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Porter Ricks,
Magma,
The Knickerbockers,
DJ Style,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Seeds,
Graham Central Station,
Glenn Branca,
Sister Nancy,
Livin' Joy,
Banda Bassotti,
The Sonics,
The Grass Roots,
Wolf Eyes,
B.T. Express,
Brick,
Flash Fearless,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
MC5,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Buckinghams,
the Germs,
Andrew Hill,
Chris Corsano,
Suicide,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Mars,
Hashim,
Jandek,
Yazoo,
U.S. Maple,
The Moleskins,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles.
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.