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 Luxembourg and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Gerry Rafferty to the grunge 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 Faraquet. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eden Ahbez 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultimate Spinach record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Donny Hathaway,
The Techniques,
The Count Five,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Kerrie Biddell,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Curtis Mayfield,
Neu!,
Nirvana,
Magazine,
the Slits,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
In Retrospect,
Ralphi Rosario,
David Bowie,
Charles Mingus,
Moby Grape,
Rotary Connection,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Radiohead,
James White and The Blacks,
Janne Schatter,
Minor Threat,
Electric Prunes,
Warsaw,
Interpol,
FM Einheit,
Juan Atkins,
The Blues Magoos,
Albert Ayler,
Ultravox,
Malaria!,
Cecil Taylor,
Crash Course in Science,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Robert Görl,
Nik Kershaw,
Pagans,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
JFA,
Roxy Music,
Motorama,
The Busters,
The Neon Judgement,
Siglo XX,
Sun Ra,
Metal Thangz,
Ossler,
Rhythm & Sound,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Byron Stingily,
Scion,
The Martian,
Nick Fraelich,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Mojo Men,
Sight & Sound,
The Stooges,
Big Daddy Kane,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Banda Bassotti,
Mantronix,
Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy.
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.