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 Cape Verde and from London.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 organ 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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 48th St. Collective. All the underground hits.
All Graham Central Station tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tres Demented record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 guitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Urselle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angry Samoans,
Freddie Wadling,
Boz Scaggs,
The Buckinghams,
The Busters,
the Fania All-Stars,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Motorama,
Skaos,
New York Dolls,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Derrick Morgan,
Liliput,
The Kinks,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Cecil Taylor,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Joe Finger,
Gastr Del Sol,
Black Moon,
Frankie Knuckles,
Massinfluence,
Matthew Bourne,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Marvin Gaye,
Oneida,
Bizarre Inc.,
Gang of Four,
Bluetip,
Nas,
Moby Grape,
Anthony Braxton,
ABC,
Blancmange,
Pierre Henry,
Eddi Front,
The Martian,
The Evens,
F. McDonald,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
John Cale,
the Human League,
Andrew Hill,
Saccharine Trust,
Dawn Penn,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Section 25,
Eric Dolphy,
Graham Central Station,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Crime,
The Fire Engines,
Accadde A,
The Fall,
Leonard Cohen,
DJ Style,
Intrusion,
The Divine Comedy,
The Knickerbockers,
The Black Dice,
B.T. Express,
The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos.
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.