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 New Zealand and from Beijing.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 DNA to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band. All the underground hits.
All Lafayette Afro Rock Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Fania All-Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Prince Buster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crooked Eye,
The Detroit Cobras,
Eurythmics,
Nik Kershaw,
Panda Bear,
EPMD,
Godley & Creme,
The Young Rascals,
Pagans,
Barclay James Harvest,
Flipper,
Spandau Ballet,
Alphaville,
Blossom Toes,
Lower 48,
Robert Wyatt,
Marine Girls,
Bizarre Inc.,
Harry Pussy,
Mandrill,
Yazoo,
Andrew Hill,
Minutemen,
Swell Maps,
The Move,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Durutti Column,
Anthony Braxton,
Trumans Water,
Bobby Sherman,
Letta Mbulu,
The J.B.'s,
John Holt,
PIL,
Jerry's Kids,
Yellowson,
Theoretical Girls,
Sarah Menescal,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Wasted Youth,
the Human League,
Livin' Joy,
Nick Fraelich,
Alison Limerick,
Joyce Sims,
Barrington Levy,
Duran Duran,
Sun Ra,
Massinfluence,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Tears for Fears,
Babytalk,
Y Pants,
Big Daddy Kane,
Blancmange,
Dark Day,
Barbara Tucker,
Arcadia,
Tom Boy,
The Walker Brothers, The Walker Brothers, The Walker Brothers, The Walker Brothers.
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.