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 Cyprus and from Shanghai.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Hong Kong.
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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Sparks to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Gary Puckett & The Union Gap. All the underground hits.
All China Crisis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Sonics 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 48th St. Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cowsills,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Tim Buckley,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Roxette,
The Grass Roots,
The Vogues,
Malaria!,
Kevin Saunderson,
Metal Thangz,
Derrick May,
the Normal,
The Black Dice,
Minnie Riperton,
Iggy Pop,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Neon Judgement,
Slick Rick,
Jeff Lynne,
Franke,
Tommy Roe,
Eden Ahbez,
The Gladiators,
Patti Smith,
Radio Birdman,
Throbbing Gristle,
Ronan,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Absolute Body Control,
Schoolly D,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Kayak,
Siglo XX,
The Alarm Clocks,
Jacques Brel,
The Walker Brothers,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Pantaleimon,
Blancmange,
Boredoms,
Icehouse,
Peter and Kerry,
Delon & Dalcan,
Basic Channel,
Procol Harum,
The Names,
Archie Shepp,
Sex Pistols,
Cheater Slicks,
Young Marble Giants,
the Slits,
Moebius,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Lucky Dragons,
The Martian,
Matthew Bourne,
Depeche Mode,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Outsiders,
Technova,
Bush Tetras,
Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish.
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.