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 Burundi and from Jakarta.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Underground Resistance to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish. All the underground hits.
All Eli Mardock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Kinks 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bauhaus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sex Pistols,
This Heat,
Soul II Soul,
Deakin,
the Swans,
Moss Icon,
Echospace,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Fortunes,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Flesh Eaters,
Royal Trux,
Barrington Levy,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Dennis Brown,
Mark Hollis,
Yusef Lateef,
Fugazi,
Stereo Dub,
Archie Shepp,
Scott Walker,
Gastr Del Sol,
Boz Scaggs,
Bronski Beat,
Bobby Womack,
Altered Images,
Malaria!,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Colin Newman,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
the Human League,
The Techniques,
Bootsy Collins,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Mummies,
Eden Ahbez,
LL Cool J,
Ornette Coleman,
Tim Buckley,
Smog,
Urselle,
Rakim,
The Young Rascals,
Gang Starr,
Monolake,
The Knickerbockers,
The Move,
Moebius,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Aloha Tigers,
The Music Machine,
Howard Jones,
Faraquet,
Derrick Morgan,
The Zeros,
The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics.
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.