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 St Lucia and from Manchester.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 China Crisis. All the underground hits.
All Heavy D & The Boyz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every In Retrospect 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Move record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scratch Acid,
K-Klass,
the Swans,
Flamin' Groovies,
Aloha Tigers,
The Gladiators,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Gang Starr,
Gang Green,
Can,
The Beau Brummels,
Quantec,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Electric Prunes,
The Sound,
Surgeon,
Massinfluence,
a-ha,
The American Breed,
Marine Girls,
Tom Boy,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Techniques,
The Velvet Underground,
Quadrant,
Steve Hackett,
The Misunderstood,
Fear,
Rapeman,
Mad Mike,
Sixth Finger,
The Motions,
China Crisis,
Rhythm & Sound,
Howard Jones,
The Dead C,
Khruangbin,
Moss Icon,
Gichy Dan,
Depeche Mode,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Judy Mowatt,
Livin' Joy,
Chrome,
Ice-T,
Ken Boothe,
The Black Dice,
Josef K,
Technova,
Man Eating Sloth,
Bobby Sherman,
Hot Snakes,
Big Daddy Kane,
Animal Collective,
Tres Demented,
Heaven 17,
EPMD,
Aaron Thompson,
The Golliwogs,
John Lydon,
Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton.
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.