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 Portugal and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron 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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 sitar 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 Ultravox to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Juan Atkins. All the underground hits.
All Lungfish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Buzzcocks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Erykah Badu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mo-Dettes,
Lyres,
X-102,
F. McDonald,
Massinfluence,
Derrick Morgan,
The Move,
The Detroit Cobras,
Frankie Knuckles,
Kas Product,
the Soft Cell,
Tres Demented,
Pantaleimon,
Wings,
R.M.O.,
Tubeway Army,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Slits,
Gerry Rafferty,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
A Certain Ratio,
Blake Baxter,
U.S. Maple,
Chris & Cosey,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Man Eating Sloth,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Searchers,
John Holt,
the Bar-Kays,
Stiv Bators,
One Last Wish,
Suburban Knight,
The Knickerbockers,
Banda Bassotti,
The Gun Club,
Pole,
8 Eyed Spy,
Qualms,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Lindisfarne,
Crash Course in Science,
Isaac Hayes,
Heaven 17,
DJ Style,
MC5,
Von Mondo,
Bob Dylan,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Last Poets,
Aswad,
Wally Richardson,
Yellowson,
AZ,
Arthur Verocai,
Quantec,
Grauzone,
Pussy Galore,
Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry.
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.