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 Iraq 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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 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 Residents to the electroclash 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 Bobby Byrd. All the underground hits.
All Cal Tjader tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cal Tjader 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gories record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Skriet,
Visage,
X-101,
Ohio Players,
The Pop Group,
Blake Baxter,
The Grass Roots,
Banda Bassotti,
Nation of Ulysses,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Shadows of Knight,
Deadbeat,
Zero Boys,
Maleditus Sound,
Lightning Bolt,
Patti Smith,
Soft Machine,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Cluster,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Red Krayola,
The Electric Prunes,
Warren Ellis,
The Invisible,
Brass Construction,
John Coltrane,
Aaron Thompson,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Ituana,
Thompson Twins,
The Music Machine,
Sexual Harrassment,
Technova,
The Fire Engines,
The Standells,
Negative Approach,
Intrusion,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Motions,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Bad Manners,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Dead C,
Niagra,
Dorothy Ashby,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Nik Kershaw,
The Buckinghams,
Interpol,
Alice Coltrane,
The Pretty Things,
Ronnie Foster,
Chris Corsano,
Dual Sessions,
Toni Rubio,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Flipper,
Fear,
Television Personalities,
Sight & Sound,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Todd Terry,
B.T. Express,
Magma,
The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers.
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.