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 Maldives and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 Woodstock and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Bobby Hutcherson to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Alton Ellis. All the underground hits.
All Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-101 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Searchers,
CMW,
Basic Channel,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Harmonia,
Sex Pistols,
The Shadows of Knight,
Electric Prunes,
The Angels of Light,
Angry Samoans,
The Vogues,
Young Marble Giants,
Bootsy Collins,
The Saints,
Index,
OOIOO,
Robert Wyatt,
Michelle Simonal,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Desert Stars,
The Beau Brummels,
Ultravox,
KRS-One,
The Grass Roots,
PIL,
Moss Icon,
Nirvana,
Spoonie Gee,
Eric Copeland,
Guru Guru,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Gabor Szabo,
the Normal,
June Days,
Half Japanese,
Procol Harum,
The Offenders,
Alton Ellis,
Von Mondo,
Boredoms,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Sexual Harrassment,
Blossom Toes,
Minutemen,
MDC,
Rapeman,
Model 500,
Dead Boys,
Negative Approach,
The Gladiators,
Al Stewart,
The Cure,
Camberwell Now,
Rakim,
Duran Duran,
T. Rex,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Zero Boys,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Sam Rivers,
the Human League,
Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore.
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.