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 St Lucia and from Winnipeg.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 theremin 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 the Swans to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Radiopuhelimet. All the underground hits.
All Sex Pistols tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Wyatt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Donald Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soft Machine,
The Angels of Light,
Sister Nancy,
Nik Kershaw,
The Doobie Brothers,
Oneida,
Ultra Naté,
Joyce Sims,
Vainqueur,
Sex Pistols,
Peter and Kerry,
Urselle,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Unwound,
Marmalade,
Idris Muhammad,
Mandrill,
Sparks,
The Names,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Star Department,
Frankie Knuckles,
Easy Going,
Soul Sonic Force,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Minor Threat,
Fat Boys,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Big Daddy Kane,
Lucky Dragons,
Buzzcocks,
Theoretical Girls,
Faust,
The American Breed,
Average White Band,
Fad Gadget,
Eden Ahbez,
Stockholm Monsters,
Youth Brigade,
Popol Vuh,
Eli Mardock,
Barry Ungar,
The United States of America,
Technova,
Johnny Osbourne,
Royal Trux,
the Bar-Kays,
Camberwell Now,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Nation of Ulysses,
Sound Behaviour,
Monks,
The Stooges,
Bobby Sherman,
Surgeon,
The Dirtbombs,
The Smoke,
Make Up,
The Music Machine,
Blancmange,
Nas, Nas, Nas, Nas.
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.