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 Madagascar and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 ABC to the techno 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 Amon Düül. All the underground hits.
All World's Most tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every PIL record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 synthesizer and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultimate Spinach record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Skriet,
Make Up,
Con Funk Shun,
Howard Jones,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Frankie Knuckles,
T. Rex,
Sexual Harrassment,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Tres Demented,
Blossom Toes,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Zeros,
The Move,
Electric Prunes,
Bobby Byrd,
Moby Grape,
Soul Sonic Force,
Kurtis Blow,
Alphaville,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Ludus,
Fela Kuti,
The Golliwogs,
Leonard Cohen,
Nik Kershaw,
New Order,
Dennis Brown,
Saccharine Trust,
Harry Pussy,
Amon Düül,
Avey Tare,
Slave,
DJ Style,
Aloha Tigers,
Joe Finger,
UT,
Main Source,
The Cramps,
Ronnie Foster,
a-ha,
Yazoo,
Colin Newman,
Tropical Tobacco,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Masters at Work,
Thee Headcoats,
Supertramp,
8 Eyed Spy,
DJ Sneak,
Negative Approach,
Parry Music,
Derrick May,
Lindisfarne,
Jeru the Damaja,
Delon & Dalcan,
Y Pants,
LL Cool J,
David Axelrod,
Bronski Beat,
the Slits,
Soft Machine,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Vogues, The Vogues, The Vogues, The Vogues.
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.