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 Benin and from Houston.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe 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 Michelle Simonal to the funk 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 The J.B.'s. All the underground hits.
All David McCallum tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arthur Verocai 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ponytail record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Smog,
Outsiders,
Soulsonic Force,
ABC,
cv313,
Brothers Johnson,
EPMD,
Mad Mike,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
H. Thieme,
Lindisfarne,
Little Man,
The Names,
Anakelly,
The New Christs,
The Knickerbockers,
The Victims,
Metal Thangz,
the Fania All-Stars,
Tears for Fears,
Alphaville,
Gastr Del Sol,
Josef K,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
MC5,
Marvin Gaye,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Yusef Lateef,
Wasted Youth,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Reagan Youth,
The Standells,
The Electric Prunes,
The Divine Comedy,
Robert Hood,
the Normal,
The Detroit Cobras,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Faraquet,
Rufus Thomas,
Crime,
The Smiths,
The Durutti Column,
Ultra Naté,
Dual Sessions,
The Selecter,
Von Mondo,
Quantec,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
China Crisis,
Crash Course in Science,
Barclay James Harvest,
Dead Boys,
Radiopuhelimet,
Fela Kuti,
L. Decosne,
Section 25,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Young Rascals,
Porter Ricks,
Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants.
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.