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 Angola and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Bobby Hutcherson to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Cramps. All the underground hits.
All The Neon Judgement tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Bowie record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Q and Not U record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T. Rex,
8 Eyed Spy,
Joensuu 1685,
Negative Approach,
Hoover,
Maleditus Sound,
London Community Gospel Choir,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Mr. Review,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Mad Mike,
Cecil Taylor,
Traffic Nightmare,
Delon & Dalcan,
Infiniti,
A Certain Ratio,
Lyres,
Masters at Work,
Soft Machine,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Sound Behaviour,
F. McDonald,
Fat Boys,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Cure,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Hashim,
Donny Hathaway,
Gong,
OOIOO,
The Vogues,
Technova,
Yellowson,
Pierre Henry,
Dorothy Ashby,
Schoolly D,
a-ha,
Letta Mbulu,
Marshall Jefferson,
Harry Pussy,
Flamin' Groovies,
Jawbox,
FM Einheit,
The Black Dice,
John Lydon,
The Index,
Hardrive,
Little Man,
Boz Scaggs,
Radio Birdman,
Easy Going,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Dave Gahan,
Max Romeo,
X-Ray Spex,
Marmalade,
Joe Smooth,
Barbara Tucker,
The Victims,
Zero Boys,
Lungfish,
Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols.
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.