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 Turkmenistan and from Seoul.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 spring reverb 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 Flash Fearless to the rock 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 Eddi Front. All the underground hits.
All Panda Bear tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kaleidoscope 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Walker Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cymande,
Sonny Sharrock,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
David Axelrod,
Rekid,
The Move,
Aaron Thompson,
Deepchord,
Severed Heads,
Altered Images,
Thompson Twins,
The Cramps,
The Smoke,
The Toasters,
Thee Headcoats,
Todd Terry,
Nirvana,
MC5,
Robert Wyatt,
Jeru the Damaja,
Cluster,
Yusef Lateef,
Gerry Rafferty,
Technova,
Lakeside,
Duran Duran,
Bauhaus,
Bad Manners,
Maleditus Sound,
Boogie Down Productions,
Mission of Burma,
Shoche,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Don Cherry,
Byron Stingily,
48th St. Collective,
The Birthday Party,
Smog,
Judy Mowatt,
Monks,
DJ Style,
Scientists,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Flesh Eaters,
Camouflage,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Lou Reed,
Soft Cell,
Black Bananas,
Ultravox,
Michelle Simonal,
Amazonics,
Bluetip,
the Association,
Adolescents,
Ultra Naté,
the Normal,
Eli Mardock,
The Blackbyrds,
KRS-One,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Barry Ungar,
Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader.
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.