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 Romania and from Lyon.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Calgary.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the linndrum 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 The Smoke to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 ABBA. All the underground hits.
All the Fania All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Modern Lovers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dead C,
AZ,
The Star Department,
The Remains,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Victims,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Harry Pussy,
the Germs,
Kurtis Blow,
Schoolly D,
Bang On A Can,
The Moleskins,
These Immortal Souls,
Sex Pistols,
Marvin Gaye,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Fluxion,
Shoche,
Ken Boothe,
Lou Christie,
The Velvet Underground,
The Fugs,
Amazonics,
Gerry Rafferty,
Franke,
Black Flag,
Sixth Finger,
The Doors,
Flipper,
Eden Ahbez,
Lightning Bolt,
The Red Krayola,
The Mummies,
The Music Machine,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Oneida,
Q65,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Joe Finger,
Joyce Sims,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Cheater Slicks,
Tommy Roe,
The American Breed,
Sonic Youth,
Connie Case,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Cecil Taylor,
Loose Ends,
Sun City Girls,
Pole,
Crash Course in Science,
Piero Umiliani,
Cal Tjader,
Kool Moe Dee,
In Retrospect,
The Slackers,
Lakeside,
The Black Dice,
the Soft Cell,
Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work.
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.