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 Swaziland and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 David Bowie 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 Eli Mardock to the funk 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 Y Pants. All the underground hits.
All Electric Light Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The American Breed record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Moon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Urselle,
Gerry Rafferty,
Panda Bear,
Tom Boy,
Lindisfarne,
Stetsasonic,
Stiv Bators,
The Invisible,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Gang of Four,
LL Cool J,
Ponytail,
Das Ding,
Throbbing Gristle,
Monolake,
Pagans,
The Music Machine,
Lalo Schifrin,
La Düsseldorf,
Ohio Players,
Roger Hodgson,
Wasted Youth,
The Slits,
Talk Talk,
The Sound,
Sparks,
Ten City,
Quando Quango,
Crash Course in Science,
New Age Steppers,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
David Bowie,
Lalann,
Heaven 17,
Marmalade,
Make Up,
Pet Shop Boys,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Basic Channel,
Mantronix,
Jimmy McGriff,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Neon Judgement,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Avey Tare,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Crime,
The Sonics,
Yellowson,
Warsaw,
Camberwell Now,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Slave,
Gang Gang Dance,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Detroit Cobras,
8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy.
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.