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 Dominican Republic and from Toronto.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Mantronix to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Matthew Bourne. All the underground hits.
All Erykah Badu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every K-Klass record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacques Brel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Lydon,
Buzzcocks,
Mad Mike,
The Count Five,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Scion,
Terry Callier,
The Shadows of Knight,
Andrew Hill,
Zero Boys,
Colin Newman,
Scientists,
Reagan Youth,
Kas Product,
Boredoms,
Hot Snakes,
Arthur Verocai,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Slick Rick,
The Black Dice,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Leonard Cohen,
Jacob Miller,
Simply Red,
Country Teasers,
Pussy Galore,
James White and The Blacks,
Eve St. Jones,
The Misunderstood,
Michelle Simonal,
Eric B and Rakim,
Dark Day,
Suburban Knight,
Cluster,
John Foxx,
Motorama,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Sonics,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Moby Grape,
Tubeway Army,
The Young Rascals,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Doors,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Lucky Dragons,
Maurizio,
Bobby Womack,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Monks,
Marine Girls,
Crime,
Harry Pussy,
Lalo Schifrin,
Scrapy,
Television Personalities,
The Durutti Column,
Heaven 17,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Lou Christie, Lou Christie, Lou Christie, Lou Christie.
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.