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 Mozambique and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 linndrum 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 Alphaville to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Bill Wells. All the underground hits.
All Carl Craig tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Johnny Osbourne 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Litter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Throbbing Gristle,
Yazoo,
Rosa Yemen,
Delta 5,
Harmonia,
Brothers Johnson,
Black Sheep,
The Searchers,
Delon & Dalcan,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Procol Harum,
Reuben Wilson,
Boredoms,
Lungfish,
Morten Harket,
Drive Like Jehu,
Chris & Cosey,
The American Breed,
One Last Wish,
ABC,
Eric Copeland,
Crash Course in Science,
Organ,
Eric B and Rakim,
Lindisfarne,
Howard Jones,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Soft Machine,
Tom Boy,
Skriet,
Kool Moe Dee,
Sun City Girls,
Thee Headcoats,
Half Japanese,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Music Machine,
Maleditus Sound,
Zapp,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Angry Samoans,
Cal Tjader,
The Red Krayola,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Skarface,
Nation of Ulysses,
Pylon,
Pet Shop Boys,
Marmalade,
Dorothy Ashby,
Tomorrow,
Thompson Twins,
Masters at Work,
Mad Mike,
H. Thieme,
Jacques Brel,
DNA,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Aural Exciters,
EPMD,
Sarah Menescal,
Agitation Free,
The Dave Clark Five,
Gang Starr, Gang Starr, Gang Starr, Gang Starr.
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.