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 Turkmenistan and from Glasgow.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Winnipeg.
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 harpsichord 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 Infiniti to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Swans. All the underground hits.
All The Residents tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Depeche Mode record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stockholm Monsters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fela Kuti,
Gang of Four,
Dennis Brown,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Cowsills,
Don Cherry,
Malaria!,
MDC,
Buzzcocks,
The Knickerbockers,
Altered Images,
Accadde A,
Eric Copeland,
Banda Bassotti,
Cluster,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Shoche,
Lightning Bolt,
Angry Samoans,
Yellowson,
Index,
the Germs,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Yusef Lateef,
Lungfish,
Q and Not U,
Von Mondo,
Sun City Girls,
Eli Mardock,
Thee Headcoats,
Warren Ellis,
Lee Hazlewood,
Sixth Finger,
The Divine Comedy,
Byron Stingily,
CMW,
Y Pants,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Suburban Knight,
Public Image Ltd.,
Dorothy Ashby,
Glenn Branca,
The Selecter,
DJ Sneak,
Second Layer,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
La Düsseldorf,
Bang On A Can,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
T. Rex,
Swell Maps,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
the Bar-Kays,
The Pretty Things,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Animal Collective,
Talk Talk,
Echospace,
Roxy Music,
The Move,
Sexual Harrassment,
Deadbeat,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Negative Approach,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx.
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.