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 Nigeria and from Manila.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 Donald Fagen 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 Rosa Yemen to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Gladiators. All the underground hits.
All Porter Ricks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eurythmics record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soft Cell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Style,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Buckinghams,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Unwound,
Cybotron,
Quadrant,
Sound Behaviour,
Mandrill,
Warren Ellis,
Junior Murvin,
Silicon Teens,
John Holt,
Camberwell Now,
Gastr Del Sol,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Nation of Ulysses,
the Swans,
Jeff Mills,
Banda Bassotti,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Fire Engines,
Spandau Ballet,
The Gories,
Underground Resistance,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Funkadelic,
CMW,
Drexciya,
Aaron Thompson,
Brothers Johnson,
Magma,
Trumans Water,
JFA,
The Raincoats,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Jeru the Damaja,
Model 500,
Fat Boys,
KRS-One,
Scientists,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Sound,
Flipper,
The United States of America,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Judy Mowatt,
Lower 48,
Von Mondo,
Alton Ellis,
Robert Görl,
Ultravox,
Delta 5,
X-101,
Sister Nancy,
Babytalk,
Mission of Burma,
Ossler,
Soft Machine,
Ronan,
The Busters,
the Sonics,
Fatback Band, Fatback Band, Fatback Band, Fatback Band.
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.