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 Senegal and from Glasgow.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 mellotron 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 Fifty Foot Hose to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Scott Walker + Sunn O))). All the underground hits.
All The Offenders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Pus 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 harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moby Grape record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Juan Atkins,
Gregory Isaacs,
Bush Tetras,
Brothers Johnson,
Newcleus,
Eric B and Rakim,
Sonic Youth,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Laurel Aitken,
Dawn Penn,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Black Moon,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Popol Vuh,
Rekid,
The Last Poets,
The Angels of Light,
Alison Limerick,
Kurtis Blow,
Guru Guru,
Unwound,
Howard Jones,
The Alarm Clocks,
Rapeman,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
June Days,
Crispian St. Peters,
Cluster,
Main Source,
Sun Ra,
Japan,
Soulsonic Force,
The Names,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Franke,
Sight & Sound,
World's Most,
The Durutti Column,
Moby Grape,
Sonny Sharrock,
Avey Tare,
Sexual Harrassment,
Colin Newman,
Thee Headcoats,
Althea and Donna,
Fat Boys,
Erykah Badu,
Alice Coltrane,
Reuben Wilson,
The Selecter,
The Associates,
Al Stewart,
Magazine,
Das Ding,
Nas,
Stockholm Monsters,
Masters at Work,
The Pop Group,
Half Japanese,
Pylon,
The United States of America,
Curtis Mayfield,
Amon Düül II,
Yazoo, Yazoo, Yazoo, Yazoo.
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.