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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Calgary.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 X-102 to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Pretty Things. All the underground hits.
All Surgeon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Beau Brummels record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fat Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Subhumans,
Boogie Down Productions,
Boz Scaggs,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Flesh Eaters,
Boredoms,
Piero Umiliani,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Eden Ahbez,
The Cure,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Wake,
Josef K,
Dorothy Ashby,
Kevin Saunderson,
Rakim,
Minor Threat,
The Leaves,
The Gun Club,
Slave,
The Slackers,
FM Einheit,
Grandmaster Flash,
These Immortal Souls,
The Pretty Things,
Scrapy,
Throbbing Gristle,
Minny Pops,
the Slits,
Bob Dylan,
Joe Finger,
The Zeros,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Inner City,
David McCallum,
Rhythm & Sound,
Delta 5,
Grauzone,
Public Image Ltd.,
Man Parrish,
Peter & Gordon,
Bizarre Inc.,
Unwound,
Underground Resistance,
Robert Wyatt,
John Foxx,
The Beau Brummels,
Pagans,
Tubeway Army,
The Trojans,
Monolake,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Slick Rick,
The Five Americans,
MDC,
Grey Daturas,
Ludus,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Gap Band,
Johnny Osbourne,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks.
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.