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 Slovakia and from Milan.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Henry Cow to the disco 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 Aural Exciters. All the underground hits.
All Jeru the Damaja tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Althea and Donna record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oblivians,
The Barracudas,
Ludus,
Crash Course in Science,
Shoche,
EPMD,
Cecil Taylor,
8 Eyed Spy,
Dorothy Ashby,
B.T. Express,
Joe Finger,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Stooges,
Mission of Burma,
Porter Ricks,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ultravox,
The Star Department,
Fluxion,
The Raincoats,
The Seeds,
Todd Rundgren,
Nico,
Charles Mingus,
Anakelly,
Nick Fraelich,
The Moody Blues,
The American Breed,
R.M.O.,
Skriet,
MC5,
Mandrill,
Terrestrial Tones,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Lakeside,
Wire,
Soul II Soul,
Mars,
Jeru the Damaja,
Eddi Front,
The Slackers,
The Grass Roots,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The New Christs,
The Litter,
Jesper Dahlback,
Black Pus,
The Doors,
The Offenders,
Fela Kuti,
China Crisis,
the Sonics,
Jandek,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Alton Ellis,
The Associates,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Gil Scott Heron,
Freddie Wadling,
Bauhaus, Bauhaus, Bauhaus, Bauhaus.
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.