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 Lithuania and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Arcadia. All the underground hits.
All Justin Hinds & The Dominoes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fela Kuti 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Accadde A 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?
Wasted Youth,
Boogie Down Productions,
Joy Division,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Intrusion,
Icehouse,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Minutemen,
Iggy Pop,
X-102,
Saccharine Trust,
Kerrie Biddell,
Sister Nancy,
Radio Birdman,
The Remains,
The Cosmic Jokers,
These Immortal Souls,
John Holt,
The Offenders,
Jacob Miller,
Make Up,
The Techniques,
the Germs,
The United States of America,
Isaac Hayes,
Crispy Ambulance,
Fad Gadget,
Pantytec,
World's Most,
Robert Görl,
Cluster,
Sexual Harrassment,
Rod Modell,
The Five Americans,
Lucky Dragons,
Robert Hood,
the Association,
The Count Five,
Outsiders,
Moebius,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Desert Stars,
E-Dancer,
Bob Dylan,
Minor Threat,
The Angels of Light,
Yusef Lateef,
Stockholm Monsters,
New York Dolls,
Swans,
Motorama,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Lee Hazlewood,
Sam Rivers,
Gastr Del Sol,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
A Certain Ratio,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
PIL, PIL, PIL, PIL.
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.