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 Congo and from Copenhagen.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Connie Case to the punk 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 Sugar Minott. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Five Americans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 theremin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Selecter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Kenny Larkin,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Mark Hollis,
David McCallum,
Chris Corsano,
Roy Ayers,
Masters at Work,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Archie Shepp,
Unwound,
The Fuzztones,
Aloha Tigers,
One Last Wish,
Camouflage,
Jawbox,
the Sonics,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Electric Prunes,
Curtis Mayfield,
Lucky Dragons,
Godley & Creme,
Laurel Aitken,
Quando Quango,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Schoolly D,
The Saints,
Angry Samoans,
Gang Gang Dance,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Sugar Minott,
James White and The Blacks,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Max Romeo,
Babytalk,
Lou Christie,
The Count Five,
The Zeros,
The Litter,
The Gories,
Bad Manners,
Basic Channel,
The Red Krayola,
The Smiths,
Metal Thangz,
John Coltrane,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Crispian St. Peters,
Kayak,
La Düsseldorf,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Brothers Johnson,
Liliput,
Ituana,
Yusef Lateef,
Minnie Riperton,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Neon Judgement,
Dave Gahan,
Ten City,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Mad Mike,
Mission of Burma,
Index, Index, Index, Index.
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.