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 Namibia and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 Glasgow and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 Holger Czukay 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 D'Angelo to the techno 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 Peter and Kerry. All the underground hits.
All The Mummies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Coltrane 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lucky Dragons record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Electric Prunes,
Tom Boy,
Lalann,
B.T. Express,
K-Klass,
Glenn Branca,
Drexciya,
DJ Sneak,
Mark Hollis,
Jacques Brel,
The Kinks,
The Pop Group,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
China Crisis,
The Sonics,
Althea and Donna,
Reagan Youth,
Ludus,
New York Dolls,
Ultra Naté,
Charles Mingus,
Kool Moe Dee,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Oneida,
Lee Hazlewood,
KRS-One,
Godley & Creme,
Wolf Eyes,
The Dave Clark Five,
the Association,
Throbbing Gristle,
Rekid,
Skriet,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Wake,
Scott Walker,
Ultravox,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Amon Düül,
Altered Images,
Talk Talk,
June Days,
Pharoah Sanders,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Boogie Down Productions,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Clear Light,
Niagra,
Parry Music,
Adolescents,
Deakin,
Gong,
Groovy Waters,
Animal Collective,
Crime,
Lyres,
Joyce Sims,
Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye.
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.