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 Egypt and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the 808 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 Human League to the dance 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 Kerrie Biddell. All the underground hits.
All Ituana tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barry Ungar record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slick Rick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharoah Sanders,
The Young Rascals,
Monks,
Schoolly D,
The Raincoats,
Scion,
Sister Nancy,
Faust,
Qualms,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Easy Going,
Minor Threat,
Sexual Harrassment,
Whodini,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Unwound,
Bauhaus,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Sound Behaviour,
The Music Machine,
The Gun Club,
Jeff Mills,
Cameo,
U.S. Maple,
Urselle,
Shoche,
Oneida,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Standells,
Electric Prunes,
Deakin,
Television Personalities,
Flamin' Groovies,
Bobby Byrd,
Negative Approach,
Lungfish,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Mark Hollis,
The Count Five,
E-Dancer,
D'Angelo,
The Mummies,
Minny Pops,
Essential Logic,
a-ha,
Audionom,
The Blues Magoos,
Terrestrial Tones,
Sugar Minott,
Albert Ayler,
DNA,
Big Daddy Kane,
David McCallum,
Dual Sessions,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Mantronix,
Alton Ellis,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Jeru the Damaja,
Pagans, Pagans, Pagans, Pagans.
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.