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 Malaysia and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in 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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and London.
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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Flesh Eaters to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Camberwell Now. All the underground hits.
All Fela Kuti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sonny Sharrock record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joe Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Peter and Kerry,
the Soft Cell,
Bill Wells,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Robert Wyatt,
Model 500,
Ituana,
Q65,
Smog,
Grey Daturas,
Theoretical Girls,
The Fall,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Sandy B,
a-ha,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Suburban Knight,
The Neon Judgement,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Sonic Youth,
La Düsseldorf,
Chris & Cosey,
Josef K,
Pantytec,
Make Up,
Gabor Szabo,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Mr. Review,
Bob Dylan,
Glambeats Corp.,
Infiniti,
Gerry Rafferty,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Kinks,
Eve St. Jones,
Das Ding,
The Dirtbombs,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Soul II Soul,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Last Poets,
June Days,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Con Funk Shun,
the Normal,
David Bowie,
Jeru the Damaja,
Freddie Wadling,
The Selecter,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Bobby Byrd,
48th St. Collective,
Jesper Dahlback,
Bang On A Can,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Alison Limerick,
The Toasters,
Negative Approach,
The Pretty Things,
Jacob Miller,
Rekid,
Darondo,
The Young Rascals, The Young Rascals, The Young Rascals, The Young Rascals.
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.