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 China and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 kango's stein massive to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Mark Hollis. All the underground hits.
All The Black Dice tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Lydon 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Althea and Donna record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New York Dolls,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Zeros,
Excepter,
Groovy Waters,
The Leaves,
Mars,
James White and The Blacks,
Anthony Braxton,
Pussy Galore,
Aaron Thompson,
Jacob Miller,
The Fugs,
Darondo,
The Flesh Eaters,
Sight & Sound,
The New Christs,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Gabor Szabo,
David McCallum,
the Soft Cell,
John Lydon,
Warsaw,
The Moody Blues,
The Beau Brummels,
Eric B and Rakim,
Rites of Spring,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Marmalade,
Quando Quango,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Joy Division,
Sexual Harrassment,
Sam Rivers,
Radiohead,
Dead Boys,
Mark Hollis,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Junior Murvin,
The Pop Group,
Kerrie Biddell,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Black Bananas,
Agent Orange,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Doobie Brothers,
Das Ding,
Country Teasers,
Arthur Verocai,
Massinfluence,
The Monks,
Mantronix,
Yusef Lateef,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Chrome,
Joe Finger,
Siglo XX,
Grandmaster Flash,
Boredoms,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work.
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.