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 East Timor and from Bremen.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Piero Umiliani to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 E-Dancer. All the underground hits.
All The Cosmic Jokers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Leonard Cohen 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fluxion record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Neon Judgement,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
a-ha,
New Age Steppers,
The Buckinghams,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Howard Jones,
Roy Ayers,
Mad Mike,
Gong,
H. Thieme,
Yellowson,
Lalann,
Rites of Spring,
Crispy Ambulance,
Vladislav Delay,
Fatback Band,
Scott Walker,
Fugazi,
Eric B and Rakim,
Joe Finger,
Letta Mbulu,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
In Retrospect,
Donald Byrd,
Sugar Minott,
Ice-T,
The Star Department,
Franke,
Rekid,
Chrome,
Don Cherry,
Dual Sessions,
Blancmange,
Jandek,
The Offenders,
JFA,
Aural Exciters,
the Germs,
Erykah Badu,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Cramps,
LL Cool J,
Alphaville,
The Cowsills,
June Days,
Flipper,
Gregory Isaacs,
Warsaw,
Kool Moe Dee,
Bill Wells,
Kenny Larkin,
The Last Poets,
Drexciya,
Echospace,
David Axelrod,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Bauhaus,
Robert Hood,
Bobby Womack,
Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics.
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.