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 Taipei.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz to the rock 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 Mo-Dettes. All the underground hits.
All Wolf Eyes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Intrusion 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
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 The Smiths record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T.S.O.L.,
Lyres,
John Holt,
The Associates,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Pretty Things,
Terrestrial Tones,
Funkadelic,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Lucky Dragons,
Ultravox,
Blancmange,
The Tremeloes,
H. Thieme,
Camberwell Now,
Graham Central Station,
Laurel Aitken,
Los Fastidios,
Andrew Hill,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Deadbeat,
the Soft Cell,
cv313,
Oneida,
London Community Gospel Choir,
8 Eyed Spy,
Whodini,
The Misunderstood,
Spandau Ballet,
Soft Machine,
Yaz,
Howard Jones,
Reagan Youth,
The Saints,
X-102,
Crispian St. Peters,
Vainqueur,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Technova,
L. Decosne,
Public Image Ltd.,
Lee Hazlewood,
Rekid,
Schoolly D,
Pole,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Ludus,
The Dave Clark Five,
Wolf Eyes,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Smoke,
The Move,
Sällskapet,
Roxy Music,
Bizarre Inc.,
Soft Cell,
Jerry Gold Smith,
DJ Sneak,
One Last Wish,
Buzzcocks,
Bill Wells,
Organ,
Darondo, Darondo, Darondo, Darondo.
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.