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 Monaco and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 Houston and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 Tom Verlaine 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 CMW to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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. All the underground hits.
All Ralphi Rosario tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angels of Light & Akron/Family 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gerry Rafferty record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Young Marble Giants,
Boogie Down Productions,
Donald Byrd,
The Stooges,
Sonic Youth,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Remains,
H. Thieme,
Electric Prunes,
Skriet,
Procol Harum,
Bobby Byrd,
Negative Approach,
Simply Red,
Pantaleimon,
Nico,
Toni Rubio,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Peter and Kerry,
Minnie Riperton,
Michelle Simonal,
Buzzcocks,
Bill Near,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
ABBA,
Rod Modell,
Faraquet,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Siglo XX,
Andrew Hill,
Slick Rick,
Saccharine Trust,
Interpol,
Jawbox,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Warren Ellis,
The Toasters,
Duran Duran,
Half Japanese,
Accadde A,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Trumans Water,
Letta Mbulu,
Agent Orange,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
MC5,
Juan Atkins,
Archie Shepp,
Bootsy Collins,
Nick Fraelich,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Outsiders,
Jacob Miller,
Quando Quango,
The Knickerbockers,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Evens,
the Germs,
Subhumans,
Talk Talk,
Radio Birdman,
Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts.
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.