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 Swaziland and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Kenny Larkin to the techno 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 The Peanut Butter Conspiracy. All the underground hits.
All The Buckinghams tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cramps 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Saints record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Traffic Nightmare,
Intrusion,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Ultra Naté,
Eric Copeland,
The Residents,
Inner City,
New York Dolls,
The Seeds,
David Bowie,
The Alarm Clocks,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Tubeway Army,
Amazonics,
Ralphi Rosario,
Dorothy Ashby,
Electric Prunes,
Neu!,
Shuggie Otis,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Au Pairs,
Blake Baxter,
kango's stein massive,
Urselle,
The Modern Lovers,
Ponytail,
Depeche Mode,
Gang Gang Dance,
Masters at Work,
Dennis Brown,
Glenn Branca,
Procol Harum,
Harmonia,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Arab on Radar,
Marmalade,
Deepchord,
The United States of America,
Pagans,
Rufus Thomas,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Birthday Party,
Gil Scott Heron,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Gap Band,
The Count Five,
Avey Tare,
Whodini,
T. Rex,
Maurizio,
Susan Cadogan,
The Neon Judgement,
Terrestrial Tones,
Icehouse,
Ronnie Foster,
Mission of Burma,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Sonics,
Ludus,
Black Bananas,
The Golliwogs,
Lightning Bolt,
Absolute Body Control,
the Normal,
Godley & Creme, Godley & Creme, Godley & Creme, Godley & Creme.
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.