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 Tuvalu and from Paris.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 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 Loose Ends to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Television Personalities. All the underground hits.
All Organ tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Black Dice record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New Order,
D'Angelo,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Kaleidoscope,
Lalo Schifrin,
Kool Moe Dee,
Hardrive,
The Standells,
Mr. Review,
Arcadia,
Rapeman,
The Monochrome Set,
Gerry Rafferty,
Jeff Mills,
Ponytail,
Brick,
The Saints,
Delta 5,
The Offenders,
Roger Hodgson,
Jawbox,
Drexciya,
Althea and Donna,
Loose Ends,
Janne Schatter,
The Vogues,
Bad Manners,
the Sonics,
UT,
The Last Poets,
Silicon Teens,
Con Funk Shun,
Agent Orange,
Blossom Toes,
Terry Callier,
Bronski Beat,
Swell Maps,
Laurel Aitken,
The Fire Engines,
Joy Division,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Sonics,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Frankie Knuckles,
Flash Fearless,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Public Image Ltd.,
Television,
Sparks,
X-102,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Walker Brothers,
the Bar-Kays,
The Slits,
Glenn Branca,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Misunderstood,
Judy Mowatt,
AZ,
Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth.
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.