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 Bhutan and from Sao Paulo.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Slick Rick to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Fela Kuti. All the underground hits.
All Clear Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Major Organ And The Adding Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Surgeon,
Wire,
Kerrie Biddell,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Yellowson,
Groovy Waters,
Pantytec,
Scrapy,
the Slits,
New Order,
Marmalade,
Hardrive,
Sonic Youth,
Young Marble Giants,
Hot Snakes,
Buzzcocks,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Tremeloes,
Reuben Wilson,
Amon Düül II,
Masters at Work,
The Flesh Eaters,
Cameo,
Mo-Dettes,
Tom Boy,
Lou Reed,
The Wake,
Malaria!,
Skriet,
Eric Dolphy,
Mr. Review,
Mantronix,
The Human League,
The Fuzztones,
Loose Ends,
The Count Five,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
The Fall,
D'Angelo,
Scientists,
Metal Thangz,
John Coltrane,
Fat Boys,
Michelle Simonal,
Blake Baxter,
Absolute Body Control,
Cecil Taylor,
Throbbing Gristle,
Harmonia,
Radio Birdman,
Henry Cow,
Fluxion,
Hoover,
Parry Music,
Bush Tetras,
Jerry's Kids,
Connie Case,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Toni Rubio,
Gong,
the Normal, the Normal, the Normal, the Normal.
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.