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 Liberia and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Franke to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Sexual Harrassment. All the underground hits.
All Mandrill tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Royal Family And The Poor record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Carl Craig record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tom Boy,
Organ,
Skriet,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Man Eating Sloth,
Boogie Down Productions,
Radiopuhelimet,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Half Japanese,
Marvin Gaye,
Wings,
Pere Ubu,
The Seeds,
Arthur Verocai,
Davy DMX,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Tres Demented,
The Fall,
Little Man,
The Shadows of Knight,
Parry Music,
Neu!,
Nico,
Barrington Levy,
Average White Band,
Yaz,
Dawn Penn,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Robert Wyatt,
John Cale,
Outsiders,
The Alarm Clocks,
Radio Birdman,
Depeche Mode,
The Cure,
Crash Course in Science,
Bobbi Humphrey,
the Bar-Kays,
Harmonia,
X-Ray Spex,
The Martian,
Mo-Dettes,
Negative Approach,
The Motions,
The Fuzztones,
Hot Snakes,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
CMW,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Aural Exciters,
Joyce Sims,
The Young Rascals,
Joy Division,
Dennis Brown,
Bluetip,
Rhythm & Sound,
Technova,
Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight.
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.