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 Nicaragua and from Edmonton.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 linndrum 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 Sam Rivers 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 Nils Olav. All the underground hits.
All Louis and Bebe Barron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Dolphy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an oboe and a snare 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 snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ituana,
E-Dancer,
Duran Duran,
Skriet,
Ronnie Foster,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Crash Course in Science,
The Cramps,
Circle Jerks,
Girls At Our Best!,
David Axelrod,
Colin Newman,
Kurtis Blow,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Traffic Nightmare,
Amazonics,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Index,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
kango's stein massive,
Robert Görl,
The Human League,
Jeff Lynne,
Carl Craig,
Underground Resistance,
The Happenings,
Gerry Rafferty,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Wally Richardson,
The Real Kids,
Scientists,
Cameo,
Echospace,
Stetsasonic,
Minutemen,
The Detroit Cobras,
T. Rex,
The Move,
Faraquet,
Mantronix,
John Lydon,
Jeru the Damaja,
Black Pus,
Judy Mowatt,
Loose Ends,
China Crisis,
Newcleus,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Gap Band,
Prince Buster,
Moby Grape,
Electric Prunes,
Toni Rubio,
Depeche Mode,
Camberwell Now,
Slave,
Harpers Bizarre,
Kas Product,
Royal Trux,
The Sound,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible.
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.