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 Solomon Islands and from Beijing.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 organ 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 Danielle Patucci to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Bad Manners. All the underground hits.
All The American Breed tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pussy Galore record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Panda Bear record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flipper,
Ohio Players,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Thee Headcoats,
Matthew Bourne,
Ponytail,
Arthur Verocai,
Harpers Bizarre,
Motorama,
Rosa Yemen,
Make Up,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
John Coltrane,
The Divine Comedy,
Qualms,
The Velvet Underground,
Cluster,
Unrelated Segments,
The Litter,
Deepchord,
The Searchers,
David McCallum,
Buzzcocks,
Kool Moe Dee,
Archie Shepp,
Ice-T,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Maurizio,
Drexciya,
Jeff Lynne,
Roger Hodgson,
Black Sheep,
Pantaleimon,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
John Foxx,
Cybotron,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Gap Band,
Ken Boothe,
The Young Rascals,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Fortunes,
Neu!,
Popol Vuh,
Isaac Hayes,
Lou Reed,
Suicide,
Tropical Tobacco,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Bizarre Inc.,
Crash Course in Science,
Be Bop Deluxe,
the Soft Cell,
Mo-Dettes,
Procol Harum,
Judy Mowatt,
Patti Smith,
Nas,
Harry Pussy,
Electric Prunes,
Desert Stars,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Hoover, Hoover, Hoover, Hoover.
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.