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 Israel and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Sexual Harrassment to the techno 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 The Jesus and Mary Chain. All the underground hits.
All Eden Ahbez tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Association record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Panda Bear record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Zapp,
Tom Boy,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Evens,
Ultra Naté,
Nik Kershaw,
Albert Ayler,
Roxette,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Brass Construction,
The Gun Club,
Organ,
Theoretical Girls,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Eli Mardock,
The Gladiators,
B.T. Express,
AZ,
Roxy Music,
Con Funk Shun,
Vladislav Delay,
Index,
Pulsallama,
Eurythmics,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Camberwell Now,
The Busters,
Kerri Chandler,
The Shadows of Knight,
Sandy B,
Heaven 17,
Lakeside,
Neil Young,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Black Moon,
Tomorrow,
Hot Snakes,
Derrick May,
Subhumans,
Quantec,
The Smoke,
The Doors,
Hasil Adkins,
Lou Christie,
The Real Kids,
Mark Hollis,
The Victims,
Cybotron,
Ronnie Foster,
Jeff Mills,
The Black Dice,
Bobby Sherman,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
DNA,
Wire,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy.
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.