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 Lithuania and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Angry Samoans to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Gang Starr. All the underground hits.
All Depeche Mode tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pere Ubu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Pus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
MC5,
Crispian St. Peters,
Matthew Bourne,
Drexciya,
PIL,
EPMD,
New York Dolls,
Moss Icon,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Sound Behaviour,
The Remains,
Youth Brigade,
Black Sheep,
LL Cool J,
Index,
the Association,
The Count Five,
The Shadows of Knight,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Minor Threat,
F. McDonald,
Erasure,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Fall,
Roy Ayers,
Kas Product,
The Dirtbombs,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Jandek,
Maleditus Sound,
Organ,
Rufus Thomas,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Last Poets,
Quando Quango,
The Standells,
Talk Talk,
The Litter,
Ponytail,
Judy Mowatt,
Gang Green,
The Black Dice,
Los Fastidios,
The Barracudas,
Rekid,
Isaac Hayes,
Donald Byrd,
Spoonie Gee,
Yazoo,
the Germs,
Yaz,
Toni Rubio,
The Moody Blues,
Harpers Bizarre,
Swell Maps,
Scientists,
Nick Fraelich,
The Cure,
Mantronix,
D'Angelo,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Todd Terry, Todd Terry, Todd Terry, Todd Terry.
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.