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 Lebanon and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 sitar 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 John Foxx to the rock 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 Niagra. All the underground hits.
All De La Soul & Jungle Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Angels of Light 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 linndrum and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gories record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Porter Ricks,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Ituana,
Moby Grape,
The Moody Blues,
Bluetip,
Delta 5,
Mary Jane Girls,
X-Ray Spex,
June Days,
Sixth Finger,
Gang Gang Dance,
Cheater Slicks,
Dark Day,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The New Christs,
Pantaleimon,
Sex Pistols,
The J.B.'s,
The Gun Club,
Television Personalities,
Gil Scott Heron,
Matthew Bourne,
Buzzcocks,
The Smoke,
Gerry Rafferty,
Average White Band,
Ice-T,
Ralphi Rosario,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Soul Sonic Force,
Bobby Womack,
CMW,
The Names,
Harmonia,
Fatback Band,
Vainqueur,
Flipper,
Cal Tjader,
Radiohead,
B.T. Express,
Chris Corsano,
The Buckinghams,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Gap Band,
Brothers Johnson,
Sister Nancy,
the Normal,
PIL,
Quadrant,
The Offenders,
Anthony Braxton,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
World's Most,
The Invisible,
Isaac Hayes,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Barclay James Harvest,
T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex.
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.