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 Bolivia and from Glasgow.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Symarip to the grunge 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 Eli Mardock. All the underground hits.
All Fad Gadget tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious Big And Bone Thugs 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a snare 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 rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tubeway Army,
Ponytail,
The Tremeloes,
Ornette Coleman,
Erasure,
Joey Negro,
Funky Four + One,
Unwound,
The Barracudas,
F. McDonald,
Popol Vuh,
Gil Scott Heron,
Cecil Taylor,
Archie Shepp,
Desert Stars,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Eric Dolphy,
Joe Smooth,
Crime,
Andrew Hill,
Bobby Womack,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Warsaw,
Sound Behaviour,
The Divine Comedy,
The Misunderstood,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Man Parrish,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Henry Cow,
Avey Tare,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Spandau Ballet,
Grauzone,
CMW,
These Immortal Souls,
The Kinks,
Howard Jones,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Wolf Eyes,
Agitation Free,
Juan Atkins,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Associates,
Icehouse,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Kool Moe Dee,
Accadde A,
Joy Division,
Darondo,
Soul II Soul,
X-Ray Spex,
the Slits,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Roxy Music,
Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub.
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.