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 South Africa and from Lyon.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Dawn Penn to the funk 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 The Durutti Column. All the underground hits.
All The Star Department tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fela Kuti 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Red Krayola record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Interpol,
Anakelly,
Grey Daturas,
PIL,
Ornette Coleman,
Quando Quango,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Fad Gadget,
Black Flag,
Nico,
Cheater Slicks,
Yellowson,
The Flesh Eaters,
Yazoo,
The Sound,
E-Dancer,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Aaron Thompson,
Harpers Bizarre,
Susan Cadogan,
Crooked Eye,
The Gap Band,
ABBA,
Surgeon,
Todd Rundgren,
Audionom,
Idris Muhammad,
Colin Newman,
Bobby Byrd,
Chris Corsano,
Minor Threat,
Pantytec,
Erasure,
DJ Style,
Big Daddy Kane,
Brand Nubian,
Lightning Bolt,
Eric Dolphy,
Deadbeat,
The Monochrome Set,
Andrew Hill,
The Dead C,
The Selecter,
Mission of Burma,
Supertramp,
Au Pairs,
Todd Terry,
Isaac Hayes,
Cymande,
Adolescents,
Slave,
The Five Americans,
Stiv Bators,
The Star Department,
Camouflage,
The Remains,
Bauhaus,
Gang Starr,
Alton Ellis,
James White and The Blacks,
Fatback Band, Fatback Band, Fatback Band, Fatback Band.
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.