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 Nicaragua and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra to the punk 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All Crispian St. Peters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mojo Men 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a MDC record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
B.T. Express,
Rapeman,
Roxette,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Wasted Youth,
Joey Negro,
Crispian St. Peters,
Sound Behaviour,
Ohio Players,
The Music Machine,
The J.B.'s,
Tim Buckley,
Terrestrial Tones,
kango's stein massive,
Ice-T,
The Mojo Men,
Amon Düül II,
The Victims,
The Kinks,
The Remains,
The Gories,
Gregory Isaacs,
Fugazi,
Mad Mike,
Big Daddy Kane,
Pussy Galore,
The Vogues,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Freddie Wadling,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Doors,
Amon Düül,
Pere Ubu,
Goldenarms,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Procol Harum,
Porter Ricks,
Yellowson,
Tubeway Army,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Scrapy,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Pole,
Tom Boy,
MC5,
Traffic Nightmare,
Marc Almond,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Newcleus,
KRS-One,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Skatalites,
Tommy Roe,
Metal Thangz,
The Monochrome Set,
E-Dancer,
Arab on Radar,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Count Five,
Organ,
Scratch Acid,
Oneida,
The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds.
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.