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 Zambia and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in 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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Modern Lovers to the dance 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 Tears for Fears. All the underground hits.
All Skarface tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Theoretical Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Juan Atkins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Y Pants,
The Seeds,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Stiv Bators,
Ponytail,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Hoover,
Anthony Braxton,
Oneida,
Rekid,
T.S.O.L.,
Second Layer,
DJ Style,
Erykah Badu,
Roger Hodgson,
The Knickerbockers,
The Evens,
X-101,
X-102,
Peter & Gordon,
Heaven 17,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Selecter,
New Order,
Danielle Patucci,
The Neon Judgement,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Index,
Nico,
The Alarm Clocks,
E-Dancer,
Excepter,
Ossler,
AZ,
Black Bananas,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Intrusion,
Iggy Pop,
Deakin,
Bobby Womack,
Brass Construction,
Ultra Naté,
Pylon,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Bush Tetras,
Mary Jane Girls,
X-Ray Spex,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Soft Cell,
Althea and Donna,
Drexciya,
Moby Grape,
Eric B and Rakim,
Half Japanese,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Rufus Thomas,
kango's stein massive,
The Doobie Brothers,
Brand Nubian,
Eden Ahbez, Eden Ahbez, Eden Ahbez, Eden Ahbez.
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.