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 Belgium and from Hong Kong.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Letta Mbulu to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Scrapy. All the underground hits.
All the Soft Cell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dead C record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Durutti Column record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tom Boy,
Magazine,
Qualms,
U.S. Maple,
Cecil Taylor,
The Count Five,
KRS-One,
Suicide,
MC5,
Gang Green,
Sister Nancy,
Amon Düül II,
Pylon,
Deadbeat,
China Crisis,
The Busters,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Mummies,
Neil Young,
Jeff Lynne,
Stereo Dub,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Star Department,
The Victims,
Sugar Minott,
Mission of Burma,
The Fall,
Jimmy McGriff,
E-Dancer,
Crash Course in Science,
Toni Rubio,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Happenings,
Yazoo,
Crooked Eye,
The Fire Engines,
L. Decosne,
Sight & Sound,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Deepchord,
Letta Mbulu,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Inner City,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Idris Muhammad,
the Swans,
Lebanon Hanover,
Soulsonic Force,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Misunderstood,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Chris Corsano,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Sex Pistols,
The J.B.'s,
Connie Case,
Reuben Wilson,
Surgeon,
Monks,
Howard Jones,
Anthony Braxton,
Gong,
Japan,
Electric Light Orchestra, Electric Light Orchestra, Electric Light Orchestra, Electric Light Orchestra.
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.