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 Liechtenstein and from Delhi.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the theremin 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 The Sonics to the techno 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 June Days. All the underground hits.
All Junior Murvin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kerrie Biddell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Severed Heads record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun Ra,
Youth Brigade,
Robert Wyatt,
Model 500,
Blake Baxter,
X-102,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Monks,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Kool Moe Dee,
Ronan,
Gastr Del Sol,
Amon Düül II,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Walker Brothers,
Make Up,
Dawn Penn,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lalann,
The Monochrome Set,
Reagan Youth,
Al Stewart,
Charles Mingus,
Flamin' Groovies,
Sixth Finger,
Soul II Soul,
Althea and Donna,
Man Eating Sloth,
Bang On A Can,
Radio Birdman,
PIL,
Connie Case,
Magazine,
Popol Vuh,
The Real Kids,
AZ,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Deakin,
June of 44,
The Index,
Bizarre Inc.,
Pantaleimon,
Angry Samoans,
EPMD,
Barry Ungar,
One Last Wish,
Throbbing Gristle,
Swans,
Sugar Minott,
Mission of Burma,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Wire,
Second Layer,
The Raincoats,
Audionom,
Black Flag,
F. McDonald,
The Residents,
Lucky Dragons,
Quantec,
Thee Headcoats,
Agent Orange,
A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls.
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.