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 Kyrgyzstan and from Copenhagen.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 clarinet 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 Mantronix to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Barbara Tucker. All the underground hits.
All The United States of America tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sad Lovers and Giants record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mo-Dettes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Howard Jones,
Monolake,
The Velvet Underground,
Eurythmics,
John Foxx,
The Walker Brothers,
Gichy Dan,
Blancmange,
CMW,
Moby Grape,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Alphaville,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Spoonie Gee,
Soft Machine,
Lalann,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Kevin Saunderson,
Pere Ubu,
Grey Daturas,
Crime,
Saccharine Trust,
Livin' Joy,
Ronan,
Unwound,
8 Eyed Spy,
Carl Craig,
Man Parrish,
The Evens,
Slick Rick,
Robert Wyatt,
Sister Nancy,
Babytalk,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Alton Ellis,
Erasure,
Max Romeo,
The Fire Engines,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Yaz,
Colin Newman,
kango's stein massive,
Harry Pussy,
Siglo XX,
Janne Schatter,
the Fania All-Stars,
Donald Byrd,
Maurizio,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Hashim,
Sound Behaviour,
Bill Wells,
Big Daddy Kane,
Mandrill,
Roxy Music,
R.M.O.,
48th St. Collective,
The Victims,
Stockholm Monsters,
MDC,
The Black Dice,
Chris & Cosey,
Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms.
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.