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 Bangladesh and from Shanghai.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 synthesizer 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 Eric B and Rakim to the punk 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 The Doobie Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Public Image Ltd. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Severed Heads record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roxy Music record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yazoo,
New Age Steppers,
Pulsallama,
In Retrospect,
The Invisible,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Terrestrial Tones,
Ossler,
Lightning Bolt,
Mr. Review,
Sällskapet,
Magazine,
Rhythm & Sound,
Q and Not U,
Radiohead,
X-102,
Cluster,
Anakelly,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Birthday Party,
The Dirtbombs,
kango's stein massive,
The Techniques,
Newcleus,
Juan Atkins,
Skriet,
Johnny Clarke,
Agitation Free,
The Busters,
Anthony Braxton,
Mission of Burma,
Malaria!,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Gladiators,
The Remains,
The Black Dice,
Crime,
Fugazi,
The Young Rascals,
the Sonics,
Tubeway Army,
Unwound,
The Cure,
Darondo,
Animal Collective,
Thee Headcoats,
Infiniti,
The Fire Engines,
Make Up,
Rapeman,
Don Cherry,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Nick Fraelich,
The Motions,
The Trojans,
The Toasters,
Guru Guru,
Delta 5,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light.
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.