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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Hong Kong.
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 Copenhagen and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 snare 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 Royal Trux to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Pet Shop Boys. All the underground hits.
All Electric Prunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cabaret Voltaire record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scratch Acid record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Donny Hathaway,
Aaron Thompson,
Khruangbin,
Television Personalities,
E-Dancer,
Los Fastidios,
The Offenders,
Lalann,
The Motions,
Zapp,
Gang Gang Dance,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Easy Going,
The Young Rascals,
The Music Machine,
Lebanon Hanover,
Joyce Sims,
The United States of America,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Flesh Eaters,
Sparks,
Rakim,
Letta Mbulu,
Altered Images,
Ultimate Spinach,
Crime,
Prince Buster,
Cameo,
Leonard Cohen,
Blake Baxter,
The Move,
The Black Dice,
Oblivians,
Tom Boy,
Pantytec,
DJ Sneak,
Reagan Youth,
Joy Division,
Mad Mike,
Quantec,
Metal Thangz,
The Pretty Things,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Velvet Underground,
T. Rex,
The Walker Brothers,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Organ,
Mark Hollis,
Byron Stingily,
The Selecter,
Throbbing Gristle,
Deepchord,
Pussy Galore,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Lucky Dragons,
Theoretical Girls,
Boz Scaggs,
Maurizio,
Harmonia,
Maleditus Sound,
Bluetip,
Magazine, Magazine, Magazine, Magazine.
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.