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 Poland and from Copenhagen.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Wire to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Bar-Kays. All the underground hits.
All Spandau Ballet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alison Limerick,
The Cowsills,
Harmonia,
Wire,
Bluetip,
Jeru the Damaja,
A Certain Ratio,
Eli Mardock,
Brick,
Eden Ahbez,
Wolf Eyes,
June Days,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
KRS-One,
Technova,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Organ,
Ossler,
Bob Dylan,
Bobby Byrd,
The Offenders,
Tomorrow,
The Doobie Brothers,
kango's stein massive,
MC5,
Colin Newman,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Silicon Teens,
The Neon Judgement,
Schoolly D,
Nation of Ulysses,
Scientists,
Underground Resistance,
Johnny Clarke,
Black Pus,
The J.B.'s,
Lee Hazlewood,
Rod Modell,
Donald Byrd,
Freddie Wadling,
Das Ding,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Hardrive,
Minutemen,
Ronan,
Robert Görl,
Ponytail,
Yusef Lateef,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Frankie Knuckles,
Fela Kuti,
John Cale,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Skaos,
The Human League,
Big Daddy Kane,
Nirvana,
Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin.
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.