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 Turkmenistan and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the 808 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 Roy Ayers Ubiquity to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five. All the underground hits.
All Drexciya tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cymande 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultramagnetic MC's record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Howard Jones,
Derrick May,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Invisible,
Sam Rivers,
Stockholm Monsters,
the Bar-Kays,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Minor Threat,
The Trojans,
Prince Buster,
Suicide,
The Dirtbombs,
The Happenings,
The United States of America,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Names,
Pussy Galore,
Eve St. Jones,
Amazonics,
ABBA,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Nils Olav,
ABC,
Delon & Dalcan,
Tomorrow,
Altered Images,
Scion,
World's Most,
The Grass Roots,
Quando Quango,
Y Pants,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Birthday Party,
Chris Corsano,
Jacques Brel,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Moebius,
Anthony Braxton,
Gang of Four,
Todd Rundgren,
Curtis Mayfield,
John Coltrane,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Shadows of Knight,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Sight & Sound,
Steve Hackett,
Harry Pussy,
Crooked Eye,
Hardrive,
Colin Newman,
Rosa Yemen,
Lyres,
James White and The Blacks,
Darondo,
Pulsallama,
Can,
Tres Demented,
Frankie Knuckles,
Throbbing Gristle,
Aural Exciters,
The Wake,
Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane.
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.