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 Peru and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Harpers Bizarre to the grunge 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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson. All the underground hits.
All ABC tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Hutcherson 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cybotron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Duran Duran,
The Litter,
Gil Scott Heron,
Marcia Griffiths,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Bluetip,
Eric Dolphy,
Jawbox,
Thee Headcoats,
The Remains,
Dead Boys,
Depeche Mode,
Alphaville,
the Sonics,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Hot Snakes,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Trojans,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Crooked Eye,
The Doobie Brothers,
Kurtis Blow,
Donny Hathaway,
The Fuzztones,
Dennis Brown,
Joe Smooth,
Lightning Bolt,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
DJ Sneak,
The Fortunes,
Donald Byrd,
Wire,
Surgeon,
Country Teasers,
the Human League,
Rufus Thomas,
Stereo Dub,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Procol Harum,
Eli Mardock,
The Invisible,
Gang of Four,
Funkadelic,
The Gories,
Au Pairs,
Groovy Waters,
The Cowsills,
Prince Buster,
The Index,
Excepter,
The Selecter,
Bang On A Can,
Dave Gahan,
Mantronix,
Symarip,
Absolute Body Control,
48th St. Collective,
The Busters,
The Zeros,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Ultravox,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282.
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.