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 Ukraine and from Stockholm.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Hashim. All the underground hits.
All Mr. Review tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Agitation Free record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
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 Men They Couldn't Hang record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jerry's Kids,
Soulsonic Force,
Underground Resistance,
Ralphi Rosario,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Eric Dolphy,
Reagan Youth,
Derrick May,
Harry Pussy,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Electric Prunes,
New Age Steppers,
Bad Manners,
The Durutti Column,
The Selecter,
ABBA,
Saccharine Trust,
Wolf Eyes,
The Techniques,
The Wake,
Joensuu 1685,
Dawn Penn,
Theoretical Girls,
The United States of America,
The Doobie Brothers,
June of 44,
Intrusion,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Parry Music,
Barrington Levy,
Banda Bassotti,
Vladislav Delay,
Cybotron,
Jerry Gold Smith,
FM Einheit,
Amazonics,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Moby Grape,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Connie Case,
Surgeon,
Japan,
Liliput,
Soft Cell,
Los Fastidios,
Television,
James Chance & The Contortions,
OOIOO,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Knickerbockers,
Eric Copeland,
The Fall,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Lou Christie,
Terrestrial Tones,
Prince Buster,
Howard Jones,
Monolake, Monolake, Monolake, Monolake.
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.