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 Algeria and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 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 Tom Boy to the grime 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 The Royal Family And The Poor. All the underground hits.
All Moss Icon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tubeway Army 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gian Franco Pienzio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mandrill,
Byron Stingily,
Half Japanese,
Technova,
Radio Birdman,
The Cure,
Ken Boothe,
The Move,
Motorama,
Man Parrish,
The Zeros,
The Gladiators,
Joe Finger,
Little Man,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Seeds,
Magma,
Robert Görl,
Letta Mbulu,
Darondo,
Gastr Del Sol,
Jacques Brel,
Prince Buster,
These Immortal Souls,
Chris Corsano,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
the Soft Cell,
Deakin,
Nik Kershaw,
Aloha Tigers,
The Residents,
The Walker Brothers,
Mo-Dettes,
Johnny Osbourne,
Scott Walker,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Swans,
The Martian,
Crime,
Heaven 17,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Qualms,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Pierre Henry,
Yaz,
The Detroit Cobras,
Mad Mike,
Blossom Toes,
Sonic Youth,
Godley & Creme,
Angry Samoans,
The Knickerbockers,
Marvin Gaye,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Toni Rubio,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Stereo Dub,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Monks,
Spandau Ballet,
Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill.
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.