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 Serbia and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Harmonia to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Eyeless In Gaza. All the underground hits.
All Zapp tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Holt 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Blackbyrds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Standells,
Wally Richardson,
The Saints,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Gladiators,
The New Christs,
Howard Jones,
Stetsasonic,
Make Up,
Con Funk Shun,
The Invisible,
Roxy Music,
Mantronix,
X-101,
Colin Newman,
Gabor Szabo,
Tom Boy,
Hasil Adkins,
The Moody Blues,
Porter Ricks,
The Fugs,
The Buckinghams,
the Soft Cell,
Tommy Roe,
Barbara Tucker,
These Immortal Souls,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Move,
Simply Red,
Black Flag,
the Human League,
OOIOO,
Depeche Mode,
Toni Rubio,
Crime,
Zapp,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Johnny Osbourne,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Ralphi Rosario,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Angry Samoans,
Marine Girls,
Second Layer,
Byron Stingily,
Curtis Mayfield,
Wings,
Spoonie Gee,
Main Source,
Camberwell Now,
Nils Olav,
The Gories,
Unrelated Segments,
The Index,
Bill Near,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Au Pairs,
Eurythmics,
Cal Tjader,
Oblivians,
Mr. Review,
The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke.
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.