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 Vanuatu and from Madrid.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Fela Kuti to the punk 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 Alice Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All Sarah Menescal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Duran Duran record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bootsy's Rubber Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Zero Boys,
Joyce Sims,
Parry Music,
Robert Wyatt,
Wally Richardson,
the Fania All-Stars,
Make Up,
The Shadows of Knight,
Ituana,
Hoover,
Gabor Szabo,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Beau Brummels,
The Smoke,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Dead C,
B.T. Express,
Surgeon,
Marvin Gaye,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Gap Band,
Jeff Mills,
The Human League,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Schoolly D,
Outsiders,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Move,
Bobby Byrd,
The Vogues,
Con Funk Shun,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Motorama,
Eric Copeland,
Rakim,
Zapp,
Dark Day,
Marc Almond,
Fela Kuti,
Harpers Bizarre,
Excepter,
The Pretty Things,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Matthew Bourne,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Mission of Burma,
Iggy Pop,
The Modern Lovers,
Eve St. Jones,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Barclay James Harvest,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Sonic Youth,
Pet Shop Boys,
In Retrospect,
The Fall,
Khruangbin,
Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana.
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.