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 Austria and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 Matthew Bourne to the punk 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 The Barracudas. All the underground hits.
All Lonnie Liston Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed & John Cale 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James White and The Blacks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Talk Talk,
Lungfish,
Oblivians,
Glambeats Corp.,
Eddi Front,
Sound Behaviour,
Absolute Body Control,
Bobby Womack,
Magazine,
ABBA,
Vladislav Delay,
Grandmaster Flash,
Section 25,
Reuben Wilson,
Al Stewart,
Public Enemy,
Circle Jerks,
The Misunderstood,
The Invisible,
John Coltrane,
Japan,
Eurythmics,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Albert Ayler,
Yusef Lateef,
Bauhaus,
Duran Duran,
Sonny Sharrock,
Lou Reed,
Pet Shop Boys,
Freddie Wadling,
The Evens,
Ralphi Rosario,
Moby Grape,
Ronnie Foster,
Sandy B,
Letta Mbulu,
Brothers Johnson,
Urselle,
Mark Hollis,
FM Einheit,
Tears for Fears,
Cecil Taylor,
Soulsonic Force,
Sam Rivers,
The Slackers,
Livin' Joy,
the Bar-Kays,
Glenn Branca,
KRS-One,
The Birthday Party,
Cal Tjader,
Big Daddy Kane,
Skriet,
Pharoah Sanders,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
L. Decosne,
Chris Corsano,
Bill Near,
The Beau Brummels,
The Motions,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps.
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.