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 China and from Portland.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Fear to the disco 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 Piero Umiliani. All the underground hits.
All Bronski Beat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Curtis Mayfield record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Drexciya record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Josef K,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Crooked Eye,
Niagra,
Ossler,
Ten City,
Monolake,
John Coltrane,
The Zeros,
The Vogues,
Morten Harket,
Von Mondo,
Matthew Bourne,
Bill Near,
Ultravox,
Eden Ahbez,
Quando Quango,
The Electric Prunes,
Rod Modell,
Heaven 17,
Sugar Minott,
Infiniti,
Adolescents,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Con Funk Shun,
Blossom Toes,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Au Pairs,
Eve St. Jones,
Sällskapet,
The Last Poets,
Erykah Badu,
Crash Course in Science,
The Victims,
U.S. Maple,
Oneida,
the Swans,
Pylon,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Mandrill,
John Holt,
Joe Finger,
Rosa Yemen,
Excepter,
The Young Rascals,
Roxy Music,
The Walker Brothers,
Gang Green,
Cymande,
June Days,
Sun City Girls,
The Wake,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Monks,
Graham Central Station,
Mission of Burma,
8 Eyed Spy,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Wasted Youth,
Andrew Hill,
Henry Cow,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Black Flag, Black Flag, Black Flag, Black Flag.
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.