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 Lithuania and from Hong Kong.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Portland.
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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Janne Schatter to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 48th St. Collective. All the underground hits.
All Altered Images tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Associates record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a B.T. Express record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Negative Approach,
The Detroit Cobras,
Stereo Dub,
Robert Hood,
Gerry Rafferty,
Shoche,
The Smoke,
Byron Stingily,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Angry Samoans,
Mars,
The Blackbyrds,
T.S.O.L.,
Flash Fearless,
Can,
Barry Ungar,
The Fugs,
Rakim,
Unrelated Segments,
Los Fastidios,
Jesper Dahlback,
Crime,
Con Funk Shun,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
David Bowie,
The Grass Roots,
Leonard Cohen,
The Monochrome Set,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Television,
The Flesh Eaters,
Pharoah Sanders,
Fugazi,
Scott Walker,
the Germs,
Tim Buckley,
The Leaves,
Agent Orange,
Jacob Miller,
the Soft Cell,
Pussy Galore,
Motorama,
Ultravox,
Spoonie Gee,
Arab on Radar,
Essential Logic,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Trojans,
Joe Finger,
Rapeman,
Liliput,
Radio Birdman,
Kerrie Biddell,
Electric Prunes,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Gregory Isaacs,
Sonny Sharrock,
June of 44, June of 44, June of 44, June of 44.
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.