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 Mongolia and from Stockholm.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Winnipeg.
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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Fire Engines to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 John Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All Glambeats Corp. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stockholm Monsters 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Boogie Down Productions record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scion,
The Gladiators,
Sight & Sound,
Stereo Dub,
Rapeman,
Symarip,
Tres Demented,
The Toasters,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Fire Engines,
Camberwell Now,
Stiv Bators,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Velvet Underground,
the Normal,
DNA,
The Skatalites,
The Red Krayola,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Royal Trux,
Fela Kuti,
Frankie Knuckles,
Barrington Levy,
Moby Grape,
Terrestrial Tones,
Tommy Roe,
U.S. Maple,
Michelle Simonal,
Minutemen,
Donald Byrd,
Derrick May,
Mo-Dettes,
The Alarm Clocks,
Pole,
Black Flag,
Easy Going,
Adolescents,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Livin' Joy,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
One Last Wish,
Brothers Johnson,
Country Teasers,
The American Breed,
The Sound,
Vainqueur,
Tim Buckley,
Oblivians,
Supertramp,
E-Dancer,
Black Sheep,
Zapp,
Model 500,
The Modern Lovers,
Q and Not U,
Alton Ellis,
Black Moon,
Qualms,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Buzzcocks,
The Angels of Light,
Make Up,
Main Source, Main Source, Main Source, Main Source.
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.