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 Bahrain and from Calgary.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and New York.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Slick Rick to the techno 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 Lakeside. All the underground hits.
All Vladislav Delay tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bob Dylan 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The New Christs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Khruangbin,
Pussy Galore,
Drive Like Jehu,
Flash Fearless,
Banda Bassotti,
Lucky Dragons,
Godley & Creme,
The Sonics,
Clear Light,
Arthur Verocai,
Suicide,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
F. McDonald,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Bauhaus,
the Bar-Kays,
Severed Heads,
Barry Ungar,
Eric B and Rakim,
Alice Coltrane,
The Raincoats,
Donald Byrd,
The Flesh Eaters,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Tropical Tobacco,
CMW,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
David McCallum,
Matthew Halsall,
The Residents,
Bill Near,
Gong,
The Red Krayola,
The Martian,
The Smoke,
Freddie Wadling,
Angry Samoans,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Heaven 17,
The Fire Engines,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Electric Prunes,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Eli Mardock,
Bob Dylan,
Jeff Lynne,
One Last Wish,
Ituana,
Fat Boys,
Todd Rundgren,
Moss Icon,
Public Image Ltd.,
Model 500,
Hardrive,
Warsaw,
Erasure,
Grauzone,
Peter and Kerry,
Sun City Girls,
Y Pants,
The Barracudas, The Barracudas, The Barracudas, The Barracudas.
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.