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 Mali and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the 808 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 Bobby Hutcherson to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Sister Nancy. All the underground hits.
All Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glambeats Corp. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Motions record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
PIL,
Deadbeat,
Tres Demented,
The Black Dice,
Monks,
Television,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Derrick May,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Neu!,
U.S. Maple,
Roxy Music,
The Durutti Column,
Trumans Water,
Public Image Ltd.,
Desert Stars,
World's Most,
Little Man,
Tomorrow,
Motorama,
Rekid,
Lou Reed,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Fad Gadget,
This Heat,
Cecil Taylor,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Hoover,
Bobby Sherman,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
KRS-One,
Juan Atkins,
Angry Samoans,
These Immortal Souls,
Gichy Dan,
Marine Girls,
Sparks,
The Blackbyrds,
Basic Channel,
The Associates,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Kerri Chandler,
Maurizio,
Agitation Free,
The Cramps,
Deepchord,
Goldenarms,
Pierre Henry,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Rites of Spring,
The Fortunes,
Gil Scott Heron,
Aswad,
Nirvana,
Amon Düül II,
Bizarre Inc.,
Banda Bassotti,
Gang Gang Dance,
the Human League,
Grey Daturas,
Hashim,
X-102,
Sister Nancy,
Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks.
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.