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 New Zealand and from New York.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 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 F. McDonald to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 John Holt. All the underground hits.
All Eddi Front tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Bananas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Slackers,
Bootsy Collins,
Nils Olav,
Don Cherry,
Smog,
The Last Poets,
Aloha Tigers,
The Pretty Things,
Nick Fraelich,
Duran Duran,
Grey Daturas,
Marine Girls,
Fluxion,
Quadrant,
Angry Samoans,
Carl Craig,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
James White and The Blacks,
The Move,
Barclay James Harvest,
Newcleus,
Whodini,
Todd Rundgren,
Minny Pops,
The Raincoats,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
June Days,
Jacques Brel,
Joe Finger,
Ultimate Spinach,
Minor Threat,
Amazonics,
Vladislav Delay,
Connie Case,
Circle Jerks,
Donny Hathaway,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Evens,
Eric B and Rakim,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Bizarre Inc.,
Freddie Wadling,
Rakim,
Monolake,
Janne Schatter,
Easy Going,
Danielle Patucci,
Sandy B,
Chris & Cosey,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Scan 7,
Black Pus,
The Barracudas,
Flash Fearless,
Boogie Down Productions,
Tim Buckley,
Ronnie Foster,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance.
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.