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 Saudi Arabia and from Accra.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Swans to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Moody Blues. All the underground hits.
All the Fania All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Public Enemy 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Television Personalities record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tommy Roe,
Fat Boys,
Excepter,
Anakelly,
Warren Ellis,
Ituana,
The Cowsills,
Rakim,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Marmalade,
Yaz,
The Real Kids,
Tropical Tobacco,
Supertramp,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Gang Starr,
Oblivians,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
James White and The Blacks,
Don Cherry,
Franke,
Unrelated Segments,
Pere Ubu,
Wasted Youth,
AZ,
Lyres,
Cecil Taylor,
Grauzone,
Sugar Minott,
Trumans Water,
The Birthday Party,
Vladislav Delay,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Amazonics,
The Golliwogs,
X-101,
Crispy Ambulance,
Suicide,
ABC,
Heaven 17,
New Age Steppers,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Brass Construction,
Public Enemy,
Reuben Wilson,
The Dave Clark Five,
Buzzcocks,
Model 500,
Lalann,
The Five Americans,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Nas,
China Crisis,
Nation of Ulysses,
Dual Sessions,
Procol Harum,
Dave Gahan,
Aloha Tigers,
Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills.
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.