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 Kiribati and from Mumbai.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Mandrill to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Country Joe & The Fish. All the underground hits.
All Quantec tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jerry's Kids 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang of Four record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Hood,
Essential Logic,
Faust,
Qualms,
The Blues Magoos,
The Golliwogs,
Silicon Teens,
The J.B.'s,
Cameo,
Fatback Band,
Deadbeat,
Funkadelic,
MC5,
Ludus,
Radiopuhelimet,
Delta 5,
Matthew Halsall,
T.S.O.L.,
Hashim,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Lou Christie,
Black Pus,
Altered Images,
The Moleskins,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Litter,
Agitation Free,
Con Funk Shun,
Sällskapet,
Sister Nancy,
the Normal,
Index,
Gang of Four,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Judy Mowatt,
Eric B and Rakim,
Pulsallama,
Mad Mike,
Joy Division,
Jacob Miller,
Harpers Bizarre,
The New Christs,
Unrelated Segments,
This Heat,
Nils Olav,
Camouflage,
Hardrive,
Motorama,
Wally Richardson,
The Buckinghams,
Von Mondo,
Matthew Bourne,
John Foxx,
Tim Buckley,
Dennis Brown,
The Leaves,
The Mummies,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Popol Vuh,
T. Rex,
Kas Product,
Flash Fearless,
Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls.
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.