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 Morocco and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 linndrum 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 Dual Sessions to the electroclash 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 Roy Ayers Ubiquity. All the underground hits.
All Sight & Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Human League record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Sheep,
Lungfish,
Jeru the Damaja,
Tomorrow,
Albert Ayler,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Gang Gang Dance,
Terry Callier,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Yusef Lateef,
The Golliwogs,
Banda Bassotti,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Unwound,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Tubeway Army,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Sight & Sound,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Suicide,
The Remains,
Ituana,
Marmalade,
Young Marble Giants,
Deakin,
DJ Style,
Brass Construction,
Peter & Gordon,
The Mojo Men,
The Slits,
Alphaville,
Cal Tjader,
B.T. Express,
The Blues Magoos,
Monks,
The Fugs,
Bauhaus,
Roy Ayers,
The Detroit Cobras,
Skarface,
The Sound,
Kool Moe Dee,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Thee Headcoats,
Buzzcocks,
Boz Scaggs,
Charles Mingus,
Saccharine Trust,
Glambeats Corp.,
Scan 7,
John Foxx,
Toni Rubio,
The Searchers,
Quadrant,
Sonny Sharrock,
Al Stewart,
The Fuzztones,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Chris Corsano,
Maurizio,
Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan.
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.