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 Estonia and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 linndrum 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 The Busters to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Los Fastidios. All the underground hits.
All Cameo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Derrick May record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Birthday Party record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harpers Bizarre,
Warsaw,
Mantronix,
Cecil Taylor,
the Normal,
The Gladiators,
Public Image Ltd.,
Guru Guru,
Camouflage,
Pulsallama,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Human League,
Minnie Riperton,
Vainqueur,
Bootsy Collins,
Leonard Cohen,
Agitation Free,
Fat Boys,
The Cure,
Jeff Mills,
These Immortal Souls,
Hashim,
Mission of Burma,
Vladislav Delay,
The Monks,
Lalann,
Swell Maps,
The Angels of Light,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Howard Jones,
Bill Wells,
Brand Nubian,
Prince Buster,
Fluxion,
Mandrill,
Ten City,
Todd Rundgren,
Liliput,
Crooked Eye,
Amon Düül II,
Popol Vuh,
Country Teasers,
48th St. Collective,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Thee Headcoats,
Deepchord,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Mars,
Soft Cell,
Gang Gang Dance,
Simply Red,
Pharoah Sanders,
Oblivians,
Glenn Branca,
Ohio Players,
The Fugs,
Pylon,
James White and The Blacks,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Technova,
Zapp, Zapp, Zapp, Zapp.
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.