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 Papua New Guinea and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in 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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 rhodes 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 Q and Not U to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The Tremeloes. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker + Sunn O))) tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Real Kids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Lydon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sixth Finger,
The Saints,
The Moody Blues,
Man Parrish,
ABC,
Marc Almond,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Massinfluence,
Sexual Harrassment,
Erykah Badu,
Matthew Bourne,
The Divine Comedy,
Althea and Donna,
Dennis Brown,
Laurel Aitken,
Gang Gang Dance,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Darondo,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Unrelated Segments,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Star Department,
Jawbox,
Lungfish,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Litter,
Delon & Dalcan,
Graham Central Station,
Traffic Nightmare,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Procol Harum,
The Young Rascals,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Gories,
The Blackbyrds,
Skriet,
Yazoo,
Johnny Clarke,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Sex Pistols,
Stetsasonic,
Curtis Mayfield,
Joe Smooth,
Lalann,
Black Flag,
Public Image Ltd.,
Pylon,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Y Pants,
Marine Girls,
Tubeway Army,
Schoolly D,
Crash Course in Science,
Sound Behaviour,
Blake Baxter,
Kurtis Blow,
a-ha, a-ha, a-ha, a-ha.
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.