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 Fiji and from Mexico City.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Lou Reed to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Bad Manners. All the underground hits.
All Warren Ellis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rakim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 rhodes and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacques Brel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eli Mardock,
Guru Guru,
A Certain Ratio,
Khruangbin,
Magma,
Erykah Badu,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Pere Ubu,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Arthur Verocai,
Kaleidoscope,
Blake Baxter,
Ten City,
June of 44,
The Fortunes,
Bobby Womack,
Shoche,
Bill Near,
Boz Scaggs,
The Human League,
Isaac Hayes,
Interpol,
Deakin,
Jawbox,
Susan Cadogan,
Grauzone,
Crispian St. Peters,
Youth Brigade,
Skriet,
Black Pus,
Gong,
Aswad,
Camouflage,
Gregory Isaacs,
DNA,
Kayak,
The Fugs,
The Associates,
Television,
The Residents,
The Names,
Fat Boys,
UT,
Joyce Sims,
KRS-One,
Japan,
Ronnie Foster,
Index,
The Smoke,
The Misunderstood,
Crime,
Jeff Mills,
Hoover,
The Beau Brummels,
The Durutti Column,
Agent Orange,
Desert Stars,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Inner City,
Depeche Mode,
Wire,
Deepchord, Deepchord, Deepchord, Deepchord.
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.