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 Uzbekistan and from Delhi.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the marimba 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 Black Flag to the rap 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 U.S. Maple. All the underground hits.
All Suicide tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rites of Spring record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ralphi Rosario record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Divine Comedy,
Soul Sonic Force,
Wolf Eyes,
Pantaleimon,
Darondo,
The Walker Brothers,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Lou Christie,
Connie Case,
The Gun Club,
Circle Jerks,
Patti Smith,
Simply Red,
The Barracudas,
Nas,
Talk Talk,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Mission of Burma,
Sam Rivers,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The New Christs,
Matthew Halsall,
Eric Copeland,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Fugazi,
The Martian,
T.S.O.L.,
Brothers Johnson,
Zero Boys,
China Crisis,
Popol Vuh,
Loose Ends,
Unrelated Segments,
B.T. Express,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Joensuu 1685,
Sound Behaviour,
Japan,
Radiohead,
DNA,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Crime,
the Soft Cell,
Sun Ra,
Radiopuhelimet,
Country Teasers,
Scion,
The Dave Clark Five,
Matthew Bourne,
Rosa Yemen,
The Doors,
Khruangbin,
Icehouse,
Yaz,
The Pop Group,
The Busters,
Wasted Youth,
Soft Machine,
Chris & Cosey,
Blake Baxter,
John Holt,
Rufus Thomas,
The Count Five,
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.