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 Gambia and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Woodstock.
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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 New Order to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Frankie Knuckles. All the underground hits.
All Camouflage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Eating Sloth 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Fall,
Bobby Byrd,
10cc,
The Buckinghams,
Marine Girls,
The Angels of Light,
Nation of Ulysses,
Motorama,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Radiohead,
Suicide,
Flash Fearless,
Minnie Riperton,
The Blackbyrds,
Rites of Spring,
Can,
Robert Görl,
Eve St. Jones,
Byron Stingily,
New Age Steppers,
Lightning Bolt,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Matthew Halsall,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Eden Ahbez,
Sarah Menescal,
LL Cool J,
Inner City,
Jerry's Kids,
Barbara Tucker,
Pussy Galore,
Los Fastidios,
Derrick Morgan,
Talk Talk,
The Doobie Brothers,
Clear Light,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Warsaw,
Jeff Mills,
Magma,
Ludus,
China Crisis,
Adolescents,
Gabor Szabo,
Crispian St. Peters,
James White and The Blacks,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Dead Boys,
Eurythmics,
Lower 48,
June of 44,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Neu!,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Sonny Sharrock,
Wally Richardson,
Television,
the Association,
La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf.
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.