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 United States and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 linndrum 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 Marmalade to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Saccharine Trust. All the underground hits.
All Siouxsie and the Banshees tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bill Wells record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Motorama record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sister Nancy,
The Tremeloes,
Marmalade,
L. Decosne,
The Black Dice,
10cc,
The Victims,
CMW,
Television,
The Blues Magoos,
The Busters,
Junior Murvin,
The Wake,
Kevin Saunderson,
Bill Near,
Dawn Penn,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Max Romeo,
Marshall Jefferson,
Gastr Del Sol,
Man Parrish,
Youth Brigade,
Michelle Simonal,
Spandau Ballet,
The Walker Brothers,
Hashim,
Jawbox,
The Invisible,
The Evens,
Main Source,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
B.T. Express,
Buzzcocks,
The Pretty Things,
New Order,
Slick Rick,
Oneida,
The Stooges,
Glenn Branca,
Bootsy Collins,
Reagan Youth,
Wasted Youth,
Eurythmics,
Surgeon,
Kerrie Biddell,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Music Machine,
The Red Krayola,
The Fuzztones,
Au Pairs,
Gabor Szabo,
Black Pus,
Guru Guru,
Supertramp,
Thompson Twins,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Skriet,
Slave,
Sexual Harrassment,
Motorama,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Bluetip,
Robert Hood, Robert Hood, Robert Hood, Robert Hood.
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.