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 Maldives and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Dark Day to the dance 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 Thompson Twins. All the underground hits.
All Monolake tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joe Smooth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Au Pairs,
New Order,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
cv313,
Big Daddy Kane,
Motorama,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Ronnie Foster,
The Detroit Cobras,
Rekid,
Accadde A,
The Pretty Things,
Anakelly,
Aloha Tigers,
Arab on Radar,
Kenny Larkin,
T. Rex,
Echospace,
The Move,
Sexual Harrassment,
Kool Moe Dee,
Altered Images,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Neil Young,
Monks,
Brothers Johnson,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Searchers,
The J.B.'s,
Y Pants,
Faust,
10cc,
Skaos,
Quando Quango,
Funkadelic,
The Associates,
Don Cherry,
Andrew Hill,
The Evens,
The Sound,
Nas,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Kurtis Blow,
H. Thieme,
Chrome,
Arthur Verocai,
Television Personalities,
Rod Modell,
Dead Boys,
Henry Cow,
Eric Dolphy,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Techniques,
A Certain Ratio,
Matthew Bourne,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Marcia Griffiths,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Flesh Eaters,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Liliput,
The Golliwogs,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Peter & Gordon, Peter & Gordon, Peter & Gordon, Peter & Gordon.
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.