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 Guinea-Bissau and from Calgary.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Arcadia to the crunk 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 Lyres. All the underground hits.
All Little Man tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Malaria! 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Offenders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharoah Sanders,
Gang Starr,
James White and The Blacks,
Urselle,
Gregory Isaacs,
Nik Kershaw,
The Seeds,
The Standells,
The Tremeloes,
Rapeman,
Blancmange,
Minnie Riperton,
Cecil Taylor,
Pere Ubu,
Pet Shop Boys,
Lalo Schifrin,
Jeru the Damaja,
Theoretical Girls,
Peter & Gordon,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Soulsonic Force,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Marc Almond,
Brand Nubian,
Adolescents,
Can,
The Cowsills,
Yaz,
Sarah Menescal,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
John Holt,
The Sound,
Yusef Lateef,
The Zeros,
The Buckinghams,
Sun Ra,
Bronski Beat,
The Fuzztones,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Scan 7,
Ultimate Spinach,
Max Romeo,
Metal Thangz,
Joe Smooth,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
K-Klass,
Heaven 17,
Gong,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Golliwogs,
Supertramp,
The Cure,
Flipper,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Hoover,
Leonard Cohen,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Young Rascals,
Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw.
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.