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 Qatar and from Tehran.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Cabaret Voltaire to the punk 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 Altered Images. All the underground hits.
All The Angels of Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Davy DMX record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a One Last Wish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gerry Rafferty,
Lindisfarne,
Alton Ellis,
Boredoms,
Drexciya,
Zapp,
Make Up,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Jacques Brel,
Barrington Levy,
Sister Nancy,
The Slits,
Laurel Aitken,
Panda Bear,
Amon Düül,
Minny Pops,
Black Sheep,
Spoonie Gee,
Trumans Water,
Crispy Ambulance,
Stetsasonic,
Bad Manners,
Mad Mike,
Delta 5,
The Techniques,
Black Flag,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Janne Schatter,
Lucky Dragons,
Bootsy Collins,
Circle Jerks,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Sound Behaviour,
PIL,
the Sonics,
Sugar Minott,
The Velvet Underground,
Accadde A,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Popol Vuh,
Bob Dylan,
Nirvana,
Matthew Halsall,
Jimmy McGriff,
Technova,
Harpers Bizarre,
Crime,
Neu!,
Camberwell Now,
Chrome,
Ultravox,
Arab on Radar,
D'Angelo,
Bizarre Inc.,
Sonic Youth,
The Dirtbombs,
Simply Red,
Quando Quango,
Rekid,
Japan,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Angry Samoans,
Monks, Monks, Monks, Monks.
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.