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 Benin and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 spring reverb 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 Eddi Front to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Lucky Dragons. All the underground hits.
All Slave tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Saccharine Trust record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a PIL record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dorothy Ashby,
New Order,
Barclay James Harvest,
Shuggie Otis,
The Selecter,
48th St. Collective,
Second Layer,
The Searchers,
Sonic Youth,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Roger Hodgson,
Barry Ungar,
Marc Almond,
Avey Tare,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Letta Mbulu,
The Wake,
Laurel Aitken,
The Young Rascals,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Qualms,
Cheater Slicks,
Quantec,
Lightning Bolt,
Scan 7,
DJ Style,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Jacques Brel,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Lakeside,
Man Parrish,
Crispy Ambulance,
Mission of Burma,
Lyres,
Erasure,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Circle Jerks,
The Monks,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Knickerbockers,
The Doobie Brothers,
Ituana,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Skatalites,
The Last Poets,
The Modern Lovers,
the Slits,
Magma,
Con Funk Shun,
Dawn Penn,
Erykah Badu,
Godley & Creme,
Pantaleimon,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Divine Comedy,
The Cure,
Patti Smith,
AZ,
Black Bananas,
Neu!, Neu!, Neu!, Neu!.
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.