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 Montenegro and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 a-ha to the jazz 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 Eli Mardock. All the underground hits.
All Blossom Toes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harmonia 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Pus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Prince Buster,
Swans,
Procol Harum,
Curtis Mayfield,
Maleditus Sound,
Kayak,
Derrick May,
Soul II Soul,
Scott Walker,
Jacob Miller,
New Age Steppers,
Groovy Waters,
Wally Richardson,
48th St. Collective,
Model 500,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Rhythm & Sound,
The New Christs,
Blancmange,
The Cure,
Letta Mbulu,
John Lydon,
Matthew Bourne,
Joey Negro,
Sun Ra,
Fatback Band,
Moebius,
Masters at Work,
Michelle Simonal,
Negative Approach,
Wasted Youth,
Suburban Knight,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Beau Brummels,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Cecil Taylor,
Gang Starr,
ABC,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Sound,
Camberwell Now,
Ash Ra Tempel,
T. Rex,
Electric Prunes,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Bluetip,
Siglo XX,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Television Personalities,
Gang Green,
The Electric Prunes,
Cameo,
Idris Muhammad,
Joyce Sims,
The Leaves,
Mantronix,
Tropical Tobacco,
Wire,
The Star Department,
Franke, Franke, Franke, Franke.
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.