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 Tanzania and from Delhi.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 sitar 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 Derrick Morgan to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Fear. All the underground hits.
All The Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amazonics record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Prince Buster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Durutti Column,
Jerry's Kids,
The Star Department,
Clear Light,
Nils Olav,
The Names,
Rekid,
Fat Boys,
The Saints,
KRS-One,
Crooked Eye,
Icehouse,
Curtis Mayfield,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Absolute Body Control,
The Pretty Things,
The Trojans,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
These Immortal Souls,
Bobby Womack,
Gang of Four,
David Axelrod,
Cluster,
Siglo XX,
Nirvana,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Leonard Cohen,
The Electric Prunes,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Evens,
Funkadelic,
Massinfluence,
B.T. Express,
The Mojo Men,
Alice Coltrane,
The American Breed,
Nick Fraelich,
Lyres,
Lightning Bolt,
Letta Mbulu,
Tears for Fears,
Todd Rundgren,
Al Stewart,
FM Einheit,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Section 25,
Babytalk,
Piero Umiliani,
The Smiths,
Desert Stars,
Chris Corsano,
Jacques Brel,
Tres Demented,
Bronski Beat,
Mars,
Dave Gahan,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Soulsonic Force,
Shuggie Otis,
Wings, Wings, Wings, Wings.
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.