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 Indonesia and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
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 The Men They Couldn't Hang to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Minnie Riperton. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hashim 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sly & The Family Stone record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Franke,
Procol Harum,
X-Ray Spex,
The Divine Comedy,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Massinfluence,
Dennis Brown,
PIL,
Ultravox,
Al Stewart,
The Walker Brothers,
Minny Pops,
The Smoke,
Jacques Brel,
Avey Tare,
Lungfish,
Erykah Badu,
Soft Cell,
Peter & Gordon,
The Names,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Tremeloes,
Television Personalities,
Average White Band,
Maleditus Sound,
Grandmaster Flash,
Eden Ahbez,
Intrusion,
Marvin Gaye,
Slave,
Cal Tjader,
Oneida,
the Normal,
Barclay James Harvest,
Funkadelic,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Quantec,
Masters at Work,
Man Eating Sloth,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Tubeway Army,
Bush Tetras,
Brothers Johnson,
Aloha Tigers,
10cc,
Y Pants,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Skatalites,
Piero Umiliani,
The Gories,
Sun Ra,
Duran Duran,
Main Source,
Outsiders,
Aswad,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Royal Trux,
The Dirtbombs,
Bang On A Can,
Moss Icon,
Mo-Dettes,
Television,
Gian Franco Pienzio, Gian Franco Pienzio, Gian Franco Pienzio, Gian Franco Pienzio.
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.