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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Salvador.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Pantaleimon to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Larry & the Blue Notes. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every These Immortal Souls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Idris Muhammad record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Basic Channel,
World's Most,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Man Parrish,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Minutemen,
Gichy Dan,
Porter Ricks,
Kevin Saunderson,
Amazonics,
Jacob Miller,
Piero Umiliani,
Cheater Slicks,
The Raincoats,
Goldenarms,
Wasted Youth,
Rufus Thomas,
Wolf Eyes,
The Move,
Easy Going,
Tubeway Army,
Dorothy Ashby,
KRS-One,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Deadbeat,
Crash Course in Science,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
B.T. Express,
David Bowie,
Carl Craig,
The Neon Judgement,
the Normal,
Robert Görl,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Gabor Szabo,
Mars,
Minnie Riperton,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Joe Smooth,
Talk Talk,
The Cure,
Godley & Creme,
Harry Pussy,
The Divine Comedy,
Mark Hollis,
Pulsallama,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
DJ Sneak,
Neu!,
Sister Nancy,
Max Romeo,
The Detroit Cobras,
Cal Tjader,
Patti Smith,
Graham Central Station,
Procol Harum,
Youth Brigade,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Davy DMX,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Monks,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Spoonie Gee,
Nik Kershaw,
Slave, Slave, Slave, Slave.
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.