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 Norway and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Adolescents to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch. All the underground hits.
All Stetsasonic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bronski Beat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Cramps,
Quando Quango,
Boz Scaggs,
Banda Bassotti,
Nico,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Brothers Johnson,
Thee Headcoats,
Jeff Lynne,
Bill Wells,
Hardrive,
Ossler,
Patti Smith,
Main Source,
Joe Finger,
Siglo XX,
the Association,
Mission of Burma,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Saints,
One Last Wish,
Kurtis Blow,
Television Personalities,
The Barracudas,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Gap Band,
Bronski Beat,
Deepchord,
Lyres,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
kango's stein massive,
Das Ding,
The Searchers,
Ituana,
Matthew Halsall,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Zeros,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Faust,
Fela Kuti,
Pierre Henry,
E-Dancer,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Fuzztones,
F. McDonald,
Eli Mardock,
Pussy Galore,
China Crisis,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
the Soft Cell,
Ken Boothe,
Massinfluence,
the Normal,
ABBA,
Ornette Coleman,
Donald Byrd,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Accadde A,
Hoover,
David McCallum, David McCallum, David McCallum, David McCallum.
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.