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 Pakistan and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 clarinet 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 The Index to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Joe Smooth. All the underground hits.
All Major Organ And The Adding Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ronnie Foster record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a B.T. Express record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pantytec,
The Offenders,
The Slackers,
Mary Jane Girls,
Sound Behaviour,
Fugazi,
Matthew Halsall,
ABC,
Jesper Dahlback,
Kevin Saunderson,
Derrick May,
DJ Style,
Royal Trux,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
CMW,
Mission of Burma,
Althea and Donna,
Be Bop Deluxe,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Section 25,
Gong,
DNA,
The Smiths,
The Trojans,
David Bowie,
Surgeon,
Lungfish,
Iggy Pop,
Arab on Radar,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Martian,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Unrelated Segments,
Amazonics,
Mark Hollis,
Outsiders,
Crispian St. Peters,
Livin' Joy,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Victims,
Idris Muhammad,
Monolake,
Minutemen,
Dennis Brown,
the Germs,
Pole,
Popol Vuh,
Nas,
James White and The Blacks,
DJ Sneak,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Youth Brigade,
Soft Machine,
The Residents,
Wolf Eyes,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Severed Heads,
Spoonie Gee,
Electric Prunes,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago, Art Ensemble Of Chicago, Art Ensemble Of Chicago, Art Ensemble Of Chicago.
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.