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 South Africa and from Paris.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog to the grime 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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme. All the underground hits.
All Al Stewart tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skriet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spoonie Gee record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Supertramp,
Pussy Galore,
H. Thieme,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Technova,
Television Personalities,
Bang On A Can,
Mandrill,
Bill Wells,
June of 44,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Fall,
New Age Steppers,
the Slits,
Minnie Riperton,
Crime,
Amon Düül II,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Rosa Yemen,
The Raincoats,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Vogues,
These Immortal Souls,
Radio Birdman,
Fela Kuti,
Qualms,
Country Teasers,
Duran Duran,
John Cale,
John Foxx,
Cymande,
Gregory Isaacs,
Gang Starr,
Barrington Levy,
Eurythmics,
Icehouse,
Suicide,
Ultimate Spinach,
Index,
The Flesh Eaters,
Gerry Rafferty,
Rod Modell,
Lakeside,
Nirvana,
Intrusion,
Q and Not U,
The Associates,
Colin Newman,
Piero Umiliani,
Excepter,
Joyce Sims,
Morten Harket,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Al Stewart,
Throbbing Gristle,
Erasure,
Electric Prunes,
The Evens,
Clear Light,
Outsiders,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band, Lafayette Afro Rock Band, Lafayette Afro Rock Band, Lafayette Afro Rock Band.
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.