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 Dominican Republic and from Houston.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 guitar 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 Monochrome Set to the rap 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 Ponytail. All the underground hits.
All The Gories tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arab on Radar record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Drive Like Jehu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Style,
Alison Limerick,
Con Funk Shun,
Minnie Riperton,
Main Source,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
La Düsseldorf,
Buzzcocks,
Alphaville,
Ludus,
The Toasters,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Black Dice,
Reagan Youth,
Oblivians,
Harmonia,
Kayak,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Crispian St. Peters,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Litter,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Pagans,
Angry Samoans,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Absolute Body Control,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Moby Grape,
Unrelated Segments,
Magma,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Gories,
Cybotron,
The Slits,
The Kinks,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Tomorrow,
the Soft Cell,
Suburban Knight,
Khruangbin,
Jacques Brel,
The Leaves,
Thompson Twins,
the Slits,
AZ,
Al Stewart,
The United States of America,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Matthew Halsall,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Man Parrish,
Sex Pistols,
Skaos,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Pet Shop Boys,
Monks,
Scion,
Ultimate Spinach,
Faust, Faust, Faust, Faust.
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.