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 Dominica and from Portland.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
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 The Last Poets to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Roger Hodgson. All the underground hits.
All Interpol tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Victims 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 guitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Womack record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Saints,
Marine Girls,
8 Eyed Spy,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Matthew Halsall,
Porter Ricks,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Smiths,
Mandrill,
Todd Terry,
Althea and Donna,
Pagans,
Echospace,
Young Marble Giants,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
the Human League,
Johnny Clarke,
Michelle Simonal,
Grauzone,
Scrapy,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Dave Gahan,
Eden Ahbez,
Heaven 17,
Masters at Work,
Amon Düül,
The Cramps,
Accadde A,
Kas Product,
Black Bananas,
The Fire Engines,
Josef K,
Black Sheep,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Isaac Hayes,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Tim Buckley,
The Shadows of Knight,
Malaria!,
Unrelated Segments,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Ludus,
Max Romeo,
The Blues Magoos,
Soul II Soul,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Rakim,
Cymande,
Colin Newman,
The Neon Judgement,
La Düsseldorf,
Radio Birdman,
Minor Threat,
Nation of Ulysses,
Marcia Griffiths,
Crime,
Ronan,
kango's stein massive,
Wasted Youth,
T.S.O.L.,
Youth Brigade,
Rhythm & Sound,
Maleditus Sound,
Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses.
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.