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 Sudan and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Electric Prunes to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Robert Hood. All the underground hits.
All The Fuzztones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every This Heat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Seeds,
New Order,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Real Kids,
Mad Mike,
Derrick May,
Darondo,
Anakelly,
Bluetip,
Davy DMX,
The Doors,
The Dirtbombs,
Los Fastidios,
Matthew Bourne,
Second Layer,
Flipper,
One Last Wish,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Easy Going,
Girls At Our Best!,
Moby Grape,
Magma,
Roxy Music,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Michelle Simonal,
Audionom,
Inner City,
Malaria!,
Pussy Galore,
Carl Craig,
Graham Central Station,
Buzzcocks,
Scientists,
The Red Krayola,
Kerrie Biddell,
Ohio Players,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Joe Smooth,
In Retrospect,
Interpol,
The Gladiators,
Rapeman,
Faust,
The Associates,
Unrelated Segments,
The Zeros,
Eric B and Rakim,
Masters at Work,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Leonard Cohen,
Von Mondo,
Joyce Sims,
10cc,
Jerry's Kids,
Sun Ra,
Tommy Roe,
Roy Ayers,
D'Angelo,
New York Dolls,
Supertramp,
Letta Mbulu,
Lower 48, Lower 48, Lower 48, Lower 48.
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.