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 Nepal and from Lagos.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Taipei.
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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon to the rap 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 Swell Maps. All the underground hits.
All Main Source tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tres Demented record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 a theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Reagan Youth,
Make Up,
Nick Fraelich,
Amon Düül II,
James White and The Blacks,
Desert Stars,
The Fugs,
U.S. Maple,
Duran Duran,
The Sound,
Rites of Spring,
Severed Heads,
Joensuu 1685,
The Happenings,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Hoover,
Radio Birdman,
F. McDonald,
Donald Byrd,
Subhumans,
Toni Rubio,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Agent Orange,
The Moody Blues,
Niagra,
Mad Mike,
Technova,
Godley & Creme,
Crime,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Pop Group,
The Misunderstood,
Chrome,
DJ Style,
Metal Thangz,
Charles Mingus,
The United States of America,
Guru Guru,
Drexciya,
Unwound,
Magma,
The Monochrome Set,
The Golliwogs,
Man Eating Sloth,
Outsiders,
Roxette,
Aswad,
Q and Not U,
Fear,
The Durutti Column,
Sun Ra,
Bauhaus,
Kurtis Blow,
Sex Pistols,
The Skatalites,
The Invisible,
Bill Near,
Roy Ayers,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
R.M.O.,
Lee Hazlewood,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman.
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.