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 Korea North 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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Khruangbin to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago. All the underground hits.
All Stereo Dub tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Human League record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gian Franco Pienzio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monks,
Alphaville,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The American Breed,
Bootsy Collins,
the Bar-Kays,
The Selecter,
Colin Newman,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Pole,
Thee Headcoats,
Isaac Hayes,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Velvet Underground,
The United States of America,
Dennis Brown,
Gang of Four,
Rosa Yemen,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Dave Clark Five,
James White and The Blacks,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Alice Coltrane,
Dark Day,
Crispy Ambulance,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Eric Dolphy,
Soul II Soul,
Sixth Finger,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Terry Callier,
The Music Machine,
Panda Bear,
The Seeds,
LL Cool J,
Crooked Eye,
Infiniti,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Fatback Band,
Yaz,
The Last Poets,
Black Sheep,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
China Crisis,
Bobby Hutcherson,
ABC,
Nation of Ulysses,
Henry Cow,
Erasure,
Rod Modell,
Minnie Riperton,
Mary Jane Girls,
Spoonie Gee,
Donald Byrd,
L. Decosne,
Amon Düül,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Evens,
Smog, Smog, Smog, Smog.
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.