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 Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 sitar 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 Scion to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Real Kids. All the underground hits.
All Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joe Finger 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 theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Youth Brigade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tres Demented,
Cal Tjader,
Sound Behaviour,
Fluxion,
The Pop Group,
Harry Pussy,
Minny Pops,
Procol Harum,
Altered Images,
Urselle,
Archie Shepp,
Faraquet,
The Smoke,
The Busters,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Victims,
Bang On A Can,
Malaria!,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Black Moon,
Sandy B,
The Fuzztones,
Dennis Brown,
The Monks,
Negative Approach,
A Certain Ratio,
Pussy Galore,
New Order,
The Music Machine,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Young Rascals,
Eurythmics,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Young Marble Giants,
Blake Baxter,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Brass Construction,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Masters at Work,
Nils Olav,
The Black Dice,
The Sonics,
X-101,
Anthony Braxton,
Black Sheep,
The Durutti Column,
Eden Ahbez,
Judy Mowatt,
K-Klass,
Moebius,
Barrington Levy,
Nation of Ulysses,
Anakelly,
Bizarre Inc.,
Circle Jerks,
Television Personalities,
Suburban Knight,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Gladiators,
Brick,
Ultimate Spinach,
ABBA, ABBA, ABBA, ABBA.
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.