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 Madagascar and from Mexico City.
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 Stockholm and Lille.
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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 The Durutti Column to the funk 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 Jerry's Kids. All the underground hits.
All Glambeats Corp. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fuzztones 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a June Days record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Black Dice,
Alison Limerick,
Black Pus,
Don Cherry,
The Gap Band,
The Shadows of Knight,
DJ Sneak,
Massinfluence,
Al Stewart,
Kurtis Blow,
Lightning Bolt,
Ituana,
Eric B and Rakim,
Frankie Knuckles,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Buzzcocks,
The Toasters,
The Cramps,
Rufus Thomas,
Pierre Henry,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Yazoo,
The Angels of Light,
Eddi Front,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Amazonics,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Selecter,
Absolute Body Control,
Toni Rubio,
Q65,
Flipper,
The Busters,
Brand Nubian,
Lower 48,
Excepter,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Masters at Work,
The Offenders,
The Five Americans,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Walker Brothers,
The Techniques,
The Knickerbockers,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Robert Hood,
R.M.O.,
Infiniti,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Marcia Griffiths,
Sparks,
Nik Kershaw,
June of 44,
Tropical Tobacco,
Ossler,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Visage,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Terrestrial Tones,
U.S. Maple,
The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers.
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.