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 Romania and from Toronto.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Moody Blues to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 X-102. All the underground hits.
All Circle Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moebius 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cybotron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gories,
Qualms,
Maleditus Sound,
Theoretical Girls,
Siglo XX,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Isaac Hayes,
Urselle,
Todd Terry,
Jacques Brel,
Cecil Taylor,
the Fania All-Stars,
Sugar Minott,
Interpol,
Ultimate Spinach,
Bob Dylan,
The Dead C,
The Blues Magoos,
Cybotron,
Graham Central Station,
Marshall Jefferson,
Skarface,
Oneida,
X-Ray Spex,
The Five Americans,
Spoonie Gee,
Grey Daturas,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Tropical Tobacco,
Kas Product,
the Bar-Kays,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Motorama,
Liliput,
Ronnie Foster,
Flipper,
The Tremeloes,
Aloha Tigers,
B.T. Express,
Pet Shop Boys,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Raincoats,
The Index,
Reuben Wilson,
Black Bananas,
New Order,
Unrelated Segments,
Ultra Naté,
Stetsasonic,
Lyres,
The Smoke,
Marvin Gaye,
Inner City,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
T. Rex,
Eve St. Jones,
Japan, Japan, Japan, Japan.
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.