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 Kosovo and from Accra.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Doobie Brothers to the crunk 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 The Offenders. All the underground hits.
All X-Ray Spex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kerrie Biddell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Talk Talk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Vogues,
Magma,
Royal Trux,
Eurythmics,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
June Days,
Basic Channel,
Camberwell Now,
L. Decosne,
Tim Buckley,
The Durutti Column,
Harpers Bizarre,
Ronan,
The Motions,
The Blues Magoos,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Gang of Four,
the Association,
Scratch Acid,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
the Sonics,
cv313,
Masters at Work,
The Neon Judgement,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Jeru the Damaja,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Guru Guru,
Glenn Branca,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
T.S.O.L.,
Audionom,
Jawbox,
The Black Dice,
The Wake,
Amazonics,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Colin Newman,
Tres Demented,
Black Bananas,
Black Sheep,
Brothers Johnson,
U.S. Maple,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Martian,
DJ Sneak,
The Dave Clark Five,
Roy Ayers,
Throbbing Gristle,
Parry Music,
Reagan Youth,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Nick Fraelich,
Dual Sessions,
Eric Copeland,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Pylon,
Grauzone,
Mary Jane Girls,
Circle Jerks,
The Residents, The Residents, The Residents, The Residents.
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.