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 Maldives and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in 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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 rhodes 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 The Last Poets to the disco 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 Matthew Bourne. All the underground hits.
All Zapp tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Byrd 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Parrish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-Ray Spex,
Freddie Wadling,
The Divine Comedy,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Oneida,
Gang Green,
The Gun Club,
Nico,
Kaleidoscope,
The Smiths,
The Wake,
Ronnie Foster,
Cecil Taylor,
Public Enemy,
Eve St. Jones,
Tropical Tobacco,
10cc,
Erykah Badu,
Suburban Knight,
Barry Ungar,
The Angels of Light,
Mary Jane Girls,
Animal Collective,
Tres Demented,
The Evens,
Toni Rubio,
the Sonics,
Echospace,
Altered Images,
The Neon Judgement,
Simply Red,
The Grass Roots,
The New Christs,
The Associates,
Dawn Penn,
Popol Vuh,
Fat Boys,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Chris & Cosey,
Barclay James Harvest,
Fugazi,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Kool Moe Dee,
Alton Ellis,
Althea and Donna,
Massinfluence,
The Dirtbombs,
In Retrospect,
Q and Not U,
The Gladiators,
Juan Atkins,
Minnie Riperton,
Scott Walker,
Eurythmics,
Groovy Waters,
AZ,
The Blues Magoos,
Gabor Szabo,
Howard Jones,
The Smoke,
Sun City Girls,
Scan 7,
John Cale,
Johnny Clarke,
Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian.
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.