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 Sierra Leone and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 marimba 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 Goldenarms to the jazz 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 Justin Hinds & The Dominoes. All the underground hits.
All Angry Samoans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barbara Tucker 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 guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Absolute Body Control record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sound Behaviour,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Shadows of Knight,
Ice-T,
Dark Day,
Cal Tjader,
Dead Boys,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Mantronix,
Donny Hathaway,
Roger Hodgson,
Flash Fearless,
Reagan Youth,
The Young Rascals,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Mo-Dettes,
JFA,
Deadbeat,
Make Up,
Niagra,
Zapp,
Vladislav Delay,
Man Eating Sloth,
Big Daddy Kane,
Glenn Branca,
the Germs,
Scion,
Leonard Cohen,
Stockholm Monsters,
Radiohead,
Suicide,
The Human League,
Duran Duran,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Curtis Mayfield,
Basic Channel,
Henry Cow,
Hasil Adkins,
Siglo XX,
Suburban Knight,
Audionom,
James White and The Blacks,
Stereo Dub,
The Sonics,
Pierre Henry,
Camouflage,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Music Machine,
The Victims,
The Golliwogs,
Malaria!,
Neil Young,
Eli Mardock,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The United States of America,
Matthew Halsall,
Scientists,
Fear,
Donald Byrd,
Fugazi,
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.