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 Gambia and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 spring reverb 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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth 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 Fela Kuti. All the underground hits.
All Los Fastidios tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Warsaw record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tropical Tobacco record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Danielle Patucci,
the Fania All-Stars,
Jawbox,
Josef K,
Wings,
Porter Ricks,
Angry Samoans,
Ohio Players,
The Blackbyrds,
Essential Logic,
Pierre Henry,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Fire Engines,
T. Rex,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Godley & Creme,
Public Enemy,
Skarface,
Derrick Morgan,
Ultimate Spinach,
La Düsseldorf,
Deepchord,
Gerry Rafferty,
X-Ray Spex,
The Durutti Column,
Excepter,
Cal Tjader,
Qualms,
Soul II Soul,
Magma,
Yusef Lateef,
Robert Hood,
These Immortal Souls,
DNA,
Lightning Bolt,
Massinfluence,
Cybotron,
The Blues Magoos,
The Doobie Brothers,
Alison Limerick,
Niagra,
Funky Four + One,
Thee Headcoats,
The Busters,
Ponytail,
David Bowie,
Kool Moe Dee,
Grandmaster Flash,
Terry Callier,
Peter and Kerry,
The Litter,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Lou Reed,
The Sound,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Blossom Toes,
Drexciya,
Max Romeo,
Boredoms,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
E-Dancer,
Radiohead,
Oneida,
Amon Düül, Amon Düül, Amon Düül, Amon Düül.
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.