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 Mauritius and from Philadelphia.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Iggy Pop to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Human League. All the underground hits.
All Curtis Mayfield tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Derrick May 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eli Mardock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tomorrow,
ABBA,
Kerrie Biddell,
Jesper Dahlback,
Susan Cadogan,
The Flesh Eaters,
AZ,
Ken Boothe,
Rhythm & Sound,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Schoolly D,
Ultravox,
Negative Approach,
Joey Negro,
The Invisible,
The Monks,
Nirvana,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Marine Girls,
Jerry's Kids,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Smoke,
These Immortal Souls,
Gabor Szabo,
Smog,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Dave Clark Five,
Panda Bear,
Loose Ends,
Depeche Mode,
Sugar Minott,
T.S.O.L.,
The Beau Brummels,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Last Poets,
Anthony Braxton,
The Grass Roots,
Moss Icon,
Suburban Knight,
The Detroit Cobras,
Groovy Waters,
Funky Four + One,
The Music Machine,
Quantec,
Blossom Toes,
Gang of Four,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Eli Mardock,
Faraquet,
Traffic Nightmare,
Lyres,
Joy Division,
Kevin Saunderson,
Wally Richardson,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Gerry Rafferty,
Hot Snakes,
Bush Tetras,
OOIOO,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves.
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.