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 Bulgaria and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Basic Channel to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Niagra. All the underground hits.
All The Index tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jawbox record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cybotron,
Big Daddy Kane,
Desert Stars,
Subhumans,
The Moody Blues,
Angry Samoans,
Deakin,
Connie Case,
U.S. Maple,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Stooges,
The Count Five,
Malaria!,
The Cramps,
The Monks,
Sonic Youth,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Masters at Work,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Marc Almond,
Moebius,
Shuggie Otis,
Gang of Four,
Carl Craig,
Suicide,
Wally Richardson,
Bootsy Collins,
Morten Harket,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Johnny Osbourne,
Average White Band,
L. Decosne,
Schoolly D,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Selecter,
The Toasters,
the Bar-Kays,
Bobby Byrd,
Sex Pistols,
Nico,
The J.B.'s,
Rakim,
The Golliwogs,
H. Thieme,
New Age Steppers,
Country Teasers,
Pere Ubu,
The Angels of Light,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Pharoah Sanders,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Gerry Rafferty,
Nation of Ulysses,
Ten City,
MC5,
The Skatalites,
New Order,
Supertramp,
Althea and Donna,
Jesper Dahlback,
10cc,
Circle Jerks,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine, Major Organ And The Adding Machine, Major Organ And The Adding Machine, Major Organ And The Adding Machine.
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.