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 St Lucia and from Portland.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Anthony Braxton to the jazz 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 Duran Duran. All the underground hits.
All Goldenarms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Flesh Eaters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barclay James Harvest record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Matthew Bourne,
Underground Resistance,
Harmonia,
The Saints,
The Standells,
Graham Central Station,
The Pretty Things,
The Slits,
Sexual Harrassment,
Junior Murvin,
John Foxx,
Magazine,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Sixth Finger,
Theoretical Girls,
Franke,
Minutemen,
Spandau Ballet,
Mars,
Pierre Henry,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Camouflage,
The Monochrome Set,
Dual Sessions,
Ohio Players,
Alice Coltrane,
Brick,
Marshall Jefferson,
Gabor Szabo,
Ultra Naté,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Cybotron,
Lindisfarne,
Bang On A Can,
Rufus Thomas,
Sister Nancy,
Absolute Body Control,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Lee Hazlewood,
Piero Umiliani,
Das Ding,
New Age Steppers,
Soul II Soul,
Kenny Larkin,
Skaos,
Roxy Music,
The Star Department,
Gang Green,
Faraquet,
Brothers Johnson,
Minnie Riperton,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Cameo,
Deadbeat,
Youth Brigade,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Dennis Brown,
Buzzcocks,
Bad Manners,
The Grass Roots,
June of 44,
Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day.
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.