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 Pakistan and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Cybotron to the rap 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 Can. All the underground hits.
All The Fugs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every EPMD record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 808 and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blancmange,
Altered Images,
New York Dolls,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Nas,
Stiv Bators,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
X-Ray Spex,
The Alarm Clocks,
The J.B.'s,
Livin' Joy,
Ossler,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Mantronix,
Cecil Taylor,
The Invisible,
Darondo,
Pussy Galore,
Little Man,
The Fortunes,
Bobby Womack,
Black Flag,
Funkadelic,
Marmalade,
Monks,
Eric Dolphy,
Leonard Cohen,
Eric Copeland,
Chrome,
Crispy Ambulance,
Roger Hodgson,
Kaleidoscope,
Pantytec,
Gerry Rafferty,
Minutemen,
Bobby Byrd,
L. Decosne,
The Fugs,
Joensuu 1685,
The Smoke,
Cybotron,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Bizarre Inc.,
Aural Exciters,
Aaron Thompson,
The Dead C,
The Electric Prunes,
Adolescents,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Barbara Tucker,
Neu!,
Sonic Youth,
Moby Grape,
LL Cool J,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Mr. Review,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
FM Einheit,
Yellowson,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls.
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.