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 Kazakhstan and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the organ 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 Magma to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Sonic Youth. All the underground hits.
All The Last Poets tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Beasts of Bourbon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cabaret Voltaire record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Electric Light Orchestra,
Eddi Front,
Roger Hodgson,
Banda Bassotti,
MDC,
the Germs,
The Misunderstood,
Johnny Clarke,
Warren Ellis,
Gang Gang Dance,
Pharoah Sanders,
Barry Ungar,
Patti Smith,
Charles Mingus,
ABBA,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Fluxion,
The Electric Prunes,
Duran Duran,
Rod Modell,
Maurizio,
Little Man,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Dirtbombs,
Joy Division,
Roxy Music,
Camouflage,
John Lydon,
Sällskapet,
James White and The Blacks,
Thompson Twins,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Byron Stingily,
Sight & Sound,
D'Angelo,
Josef K,
Rosa Yemen,
cv313,
Peter and Kerry,
New Age Steppers,
Dave Gahan,
Spoonie Gee,
Erykah Badu,
Dorothy Ashby,
Guru Guru,
Pagans,
In Retrospect,
Skaos,
David McCallum,
Moss Icon,
Nirvana,
The Saints,
OOIOO,
R.M.O.,
Symarip,
Tomorrow,
Donny Hathaway,
The Buckinghams,
Echospace,
Skriet,
Siglo XX,
Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans.
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.