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 Bahrain and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 808 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 Kerrie Biddell to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Sugar Minott. All the underground hits.
All Shuggie Otis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispian St. Peters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 a theremin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dark Day record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harmonia,
The Tremeloes,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
the Association,
Alphaville,
Eve St. Jones,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Jawbox,
Henry Cow,
Warren Ellis,
The Young Rascals,
Arcadia,
Lakeside,
Youth Brigade,
Wings,
Throbbing Gristle,
the Soft Cell,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Saccharine Trust,
Althea and Donna,
Kerri Chandler,
PIL,
The Fire Engines,
Camouflage,
Scientists,
Underground Resistance,
Morten Harket,
Thee Headcoats,
Letta Mbulu,
Barclay James Harvest,
Laurel Aitken,
The United States of America,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Cluster,
The Dead C,
Blake Baxter,
The Detroit Cobras,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Gories,
Yellowson,
The Associates,
Roger Hodgson,
Sound Behaviour,
Michelle Simonal,
The Knickerbockers,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Arthur Verocai,
The Skatalites,
The Martian,
Bill Wells,
The Sound,
E-Dancer,
Theoretical Girls,
Yazoo,
Gastr Del Sol,
Buzzcocks,
Essential Logic,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
L. Decosne,
Ornette Coleman,
The Wake,
Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment.
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.