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 Liberia and from Johannesburg.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Manila.
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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Barry Ungar to the punk 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 Barbara Tucker. All the underground hits.
All Alphaville tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Velvet Underground record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The American Breed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Searchers,
Electric Prunes,
Curtis Mayfield,
Cybotron,
X-Ray Spex,
Aural Exciters,
The Mummies,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Max Romeo,
Blossom Toes,
Bob Dylan,
Audionom,
Brick,
The Victims,
The Move,
Deadbeat,
Rites of Spring,
LL Cool J,
Eurythmics,
The Techniques,
The Trojans,
Parry Music,
Minny Pops,
Terrestrial Tones,
Minutemen,
X-102,
Grey Daturas,
Wire,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Real Kids,
Black Bananas,
Graham Central Station,
The Neon Judgement,
Mad Mike,
June Days,
JFA,
Blake Baxter,
Cheater Slicks,
Amon Düül,
Jacques Brel,
Q65,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
John Lydon,
Joey Negro,
Danielle Patucci,
June of 44,
Sight & Sound,
Delta 5,
Panda Bear,
Patti Smith,
Vainqueur,
Gong,
Lebanon Hanover,
Bronski Beat,
Q and Not U,
Johnny Clarke,
Matthew Bourne,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Arthur Verocai,
KRS-One,
OOIOO,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Yaz, Yaz, Yaz, Yaz.
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.