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 Malawi and from Lagos.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Ultimate Spinach to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 E-Dancer. All the underground hits.
All Wire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bauhaus 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Royal Trux record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Jeff Mills,
The Durutti Column,
Jandek,
Talk Talk,
the Soft Cell,
Marine Girls,
Ultimate Spinach,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
CMW,
Bobby Byrd,
Eve St. Jones,
Shoche,
Gichy Dan,
Eric B and Rakim,
Grey Daturas,
Black Pus,
Public Enemy,
Underground Resistance,
Eden Ahbez,
The Angels of Light,
Nils Olav,
These Immortal Souls,
The Divine Comedy,
Jawbox,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Five Americans,
Rod Modell,
Cheater Slicks,
Ralphi Rosario,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Names,
Monolake,
Cecil Taylor,
X-102,
The Smiths,
Pole,
Tropical Tobacco,
Deadbeat,
Throbbing Gristle,
Chris & Cosey,
Kayak,
The Remains,
The Techniques,
Althea and Donna,
DJ Sneak,
Sex Pistols,
The Skatalites,
Los Fastidios,
Quantec,
Josef K,
Moby Grape,
Bootsy Collins,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Jesper Dahlback,
Sister Nancy,
Flash Fearless,
Quadrant,
Ken Boothe,
Khruangbin,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Little Man, Little Man, Little Man, Little Man.
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.