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 Fiji and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Salvador.
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 mellotron 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 Steve Hackett to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Lungfish. All the underground hits.
All Supertramp tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scott Walker 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Public Enemy,
X-Ray Spex,
Jandek,
Rhythm & Sound,
Franke,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Shoche,
Radio Birdman,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Jeff Mills,
Kerrie Biddell,
Lower 48,
8 Eyed Spy,
Cal Tjader,
The Count Five,
Tears for Fears,
Tubeway Army,
Pierre Henry,
H. Thieme,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Tres Demented,
Johnny Osbourne,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Livin' Joy,
The Mummies,
The Pretty Things,
Howard Jones,
Avey Tare,
Gastr Del Sol,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Au Pairs,
Negative Approach,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Interpol,
Marmalade,
Roxette,
Section 25,
Ultravox,
Andrew Hill,
David Axelrod,
Minnie Riperton,
Accadde A,
Procol Harum,
Soulsonic Force,
Grey Daturas,
Buzzcocks,
Mo-Dettes,
Boz Scaggs,
Joe Smooth,
Angry Samoans,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
the Soft Cell,
Scion,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Japan,
New Order,
Lucky Dragons,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The J.B.'s,
John Holt,
Barrington Levy,
Brick, Brick, Brick, Brick.
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.