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 Ukraine and from Edmonton.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Byron Stingily to the disco 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 The Fugs. All the underground hits.
All New Age Steppers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scott Walker record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a De La Soul & Jungle Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Be Bop Deluxe,
Eric B and Rakim,
Whodini,
Deakin,
This Heat,
Arthur Verocai,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Grey Daturas,
Theoretical Girls,
Kevin Saunderson,
Black Bananas,
B.T. Express,
Curtis Mayfield,
Eric Dolphy,
Godley & Creme,
JFA,
Supertramp,
Excepter,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Brothers Johnson,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Martian,
The Cowsills,
Crooked Eye,
Massinfluence,
Glambeats Corp.,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Minnie Riperton,
The Victims,
John Cale,
Panda Bear,
The Modern Lovers,
Tomorrow,
Traffic Nightmare,
Cameo,
Quando Quango,
E-Dancer,
The Shadows of Knight,
Amon Düül,
The Black Dice,
Yaz,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Parry Music,
Tres Demented,
Neu!,
the Bar-Kays,
The Busters,
Motorama,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Rhythm & Sound,
Roy Ayers,
Tom Boy,
Nick Fraelich,
Echospace,
The Dave Clark Five,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Tubeway Army,
Buzzcocks,
Bang On A Can,
ABC,
Flipper,
In Retrospect,
Kool Moe Dee, Kool Moe Dee, Kool Moe Dee, Kool Moe Dee.
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.