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 Bahamas and from Sao Paulo.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 mellotron 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 Fear to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Scion. All the underground hits.
All Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Fraelich 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tommy Roe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Litter,
Guru Guru,
Pussy Galore,
Curtis Mayfield,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Metal Thangz,
Absolute Body Control,
Jerry's Kids,
Country Teasers,
Echospace,
Pole,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Sound Behaviour,
Scratch Acid,
The Blues Magoos,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Pretty Things,
Swans,
Roy Ayers,
Idris Muhammad,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Gories,
Kerrie Biddell,
Camouflage,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Clear Light,
The Vogues,
Sandy B,
Kurtis Blow,
Banda Bassotti,
Nils Olav,
Monolake,
Kerri Chandler,
Ronnie Foster,
The Gladiators,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
D'Angelo,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
These Immortal Souls,
Loose Ends,
Andrew Hill,
Nick Fraelich,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Ronan,
Alphaville,
The Cramps,
Icehouse,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
X-Ray Spex,
Kaleidoscope,
Henry Cow,
Slave,
Little Man,
Peter and Kerry,
Lucky Dragons,
Soulsonic Force,
Thompson Twins,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Slits,
Underground Resistance,
Yusef Lateef, Yusef Lateef, Yusef Lateef, Yusef Lateef.
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.