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 Tuvalu and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
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 Althea and Donna to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Tubeway Army. All the underground hits.
All Beasts of Bourbon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ten City record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Kinks,
June Days,
Magazine,
Juan Atkins,
Soft Cell,
Lou Reed,
Camberwell Now,
UT,
Hashim,
Model 500,
Grey Daturas,
Janne Schatter,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
cv313,
Lightning Bolt,
June of 44,
Tommy Roe,
Jerry Gold Smith,
F. McDonald,
The Blues Magoos,
Agent Orange,
Guru Guru,
T. Rex,
The Doors,
Desert Stars,
Funky Four + One,
Das Ding,
The Blackbyrds,
Eurythmics,
The New Christs,
The Gun Club,
The Angels of Light,
Sun City Girls,
Minor Threat,
Bang On A Can,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Eric B and Rakim,
Alton Ellis,
Bill Wells,
Archie Shepp,
Lungfish,
The Monks,
Don Cherry,
PIL,
Chris Corsano,
Kool Moe Dee,
Kevin Saunderson,
Sexual Harrassment,
Skaos,
The Detroit Cobras,
Talk Talk,
Panda Bear,
Isaac Hayes,
the Association,
Kurtis Blow,
The Modern Lovers,
Malaria!,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Brass Construction,
The United States of America,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade.
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.