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 Egypt and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Lyon.
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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Michelle Simonal 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 Brand Nubian. All the underground hits.
All The Last Poets tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Byron Stingily record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scan 7 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Goldenarms,
Ronnie Foster,
R.M.O.,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Frankie Knuckles,
Icehouse,
Tom Boy,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Peter & Gordon,
Joensuu 1685,
The Victims,
Accadde A,
Yellowson,
Ohio Players,
Los Fastidios,
Lakeside,
Jesper Dahlback,
the Sonics,
X-Ray Spex,
Soulsonic Force,
Animal Collective,
Minor Threat,
La Düsseldorf,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Jandek,
Scion,
Sparks,
Trumans Water,
The American Breed,
Suburban Knight,
Minutemen,
Pet Shop Boys,
Circle Jerks,
Big Daddy Kane,
Mars,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
David Bowie,
The Offenders,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Wire,
Scrapy,
Thee Headcoats,
Soft Machine,
Robert Görl,
Brand Nubian,
The Black Dice,
Throbbing Gristle,
Bobby Sherman,
Sällskapet,
Arthur Verocai,
kango's stein massive,
The Blackbyrds,
Gang Green,
Roy Ayers,
Bobby Byrd,
Yaz,
Sun Ra,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Flesh Eaters,
cv313, cv313, cv313, cv313.
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.