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 Ukraine and from Copenhagen.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar 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 Agent Orange to the crunk 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 Louis and Bebe Barron. All the underground hits.
All Todd Rundgren tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeru the Damaja record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 linndrum and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rites of Spring record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Pop Group,
Minnie Riperton,
Brick,
Girls At Our Best!,
Skarface,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Adolescents,
Deadbeat,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Idris Muhammad,
The Fire Engines,
Sonic Youth,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Camberwell Now,
the Human League,
The Flesh Eaters,
Charles Mingus,
The Last Poets,
Aural Exciters,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Qualms,
Mary Jane Girls,
Japan,
Soft Cell,
Arcadia,
The American Breed,
Country Teasers,
Terry Callier,
The Move,
Joyce Sims,
D'Angelo,
The Seeds,
Agitation Free,
The Electric Prunes,
The Offenders,
Harmonia,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Blackbyrds,
David McCallum,
Blake Baxter,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Cramps,
Marc Almond,
Siglo XX,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Gladiators,
Schoolly D,
The United States of America,
Cymande,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Alphaville,
Flamin' Groovies,
Davy DMX,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Aloha Tigers,
The Techniques,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Cure, The Cure, The Cure, The Cure.
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.