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 Antigua and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar 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 The Buckinghams to the rap 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 Massinfluence. All the underground hits.
All The Misunderstood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott Heron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 rhodes and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Be Bop Deluxe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monolake,
Marc Almond,
Easy Going,
The Mojo Men,
Fela Kuti,
Fat Boys,
Mo-Dettes,
Freddie Wadling,
The Move,
Newcleus,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sugar Minott,
Gabor Szabo,
Sex Pistols,
The Saints,
Deepchord,
Tomorrow,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Quando Quango,
John Lydon,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Tim Buckley,
The Skatalites,
Ultra Naté,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Donald Byrd,
The Fugs,
The Red Krayola,
The Monks,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
the Soft Cell,
Minor Threat,
D'Angelo,
Soul Sonic Force,
Duran Duran,
The Modern Lovers,
Bush Tetras,
Gang Green,
Negative Approach,
Mary Jane Girls,
Jeff Mills,
Marshall Jefferson,
Severed Heads,
Neil Young,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Joyce Sims,
the Germs,
It's A Beautiful Day,
John Coltrane,
The Slits,
The Divine Comedy,
The Evens,
The Remains,
Godley & Creme,
R.M.O.,
Adolescents,
Khruangbin,
Scott Walker,
The Moleskins,
The Seeds,
Black Sheep, Black Sheep, Black Sheep, Black Sheep.
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.