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 San Marino and from Bremen.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 AZ to the electroclash 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 Eric B and Rakim. All the underground hits.
All Todd Rundgren tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed & Metallica record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 clarinet and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dark Day record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Letta Mbulu,
Popol Vuh,
Camberwell Now,
Erasure,
Supertramp,
Juan Atkins,
Howard Jones,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Ituana,
The Last Poets,
Ralphi Rosario,
Qualms,
Pantytec,
Pierre Henry,
the Bar-Kays,
The Martian,
The Angels of Light,
Throbbing Gristle,
Erykah Badu,
Bill Near,
Eddi Front,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Camouflage,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Don Cherry,
This Heat,
Piero Umiliani,
Arthur Verocai,
Black Bananas,
Slave,
Wally Richardson,
Index,
Echospace,
John Coltrane,
Pantaleimon,
Aloha Tigers,
Curtis Mayfield,
the Sonics,
PIL,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
One Last Wish,
Silicon Teens,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Panda Bear,
Steve Hackett,
The Dead C,
Skaos,
Stiv Bators,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
ABC,
The Searchers,
Sugar Minott,
Radio Birdman,
T.S.O.L.,
The Young Rascals,
The Electric Prunes,
The Black Dice,
Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick.
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.