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 Kenya and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron 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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the 808 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 Organ to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Peanut Butter Conspiracy. All the underground hits.
All Eurythmics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Velvet Underground 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a CMW record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Smog,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Sixth Finger,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Jimmy McGriff,
Kenny Larkin,
The Count Five,
Panda Bear,
Todd Rundgren,
Desert Stars,
Kurtis Blow,
Nas,
Procol Harum,
Popol Vuh,
The Searchers,
Girls At Our Best!,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Subhumans,
Suicide,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Mighty Diamonds,
X-Ray Spex,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
the Fania All-Stars,
Traffic Nightmare,
Mary Jane Girls,
New Order,
David Bowie,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Buzzcocks,
Shoche,
Nirvana,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Archie Shepp,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Dark Day,
The Modern Lovers,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Donald Byrd,
Avey Tare,
Japan,
Marmalade,
Sexual Harrassment,
Quando Quango,
Con Funk Shun,
Flipper,
Henry Cow,
Aloha Tigers,
Television Personalities,
Scan 7,
UT,
Ornette Coleman,
Joe Finger,
Judy Mowatt,
Eve St. Jones,
Royal Trux,
Wire,
The Busters,
Donny Hathaway,
Ludus, Ludus, Ludus, Ludus.
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.