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 Azerbaijan and from Jakarta.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Flamin' Groovies to the dance 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 Gastr Del Sol. All the underground hits.
All Arthur Verocai tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sonny Sharrock record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Associates record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Lakeside,
Ultravox,
The Modern Lovers,
Jeff Lynne,
Das Ding,
Barry Ungar,
Sun City Girls,
K-Klass,
Man Parrish,
Siglo XX,
Ultimate Spinach,
Cheater Slicks,
Jerry's Kids,
Minor Threat,
Alison Limerick,
One Last Wish,
The Count Five,
The Slackers,
Skriet,
Reuben Wilson,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Livin' Joy,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Gap Band,
the Swans,
Sonny Sharrock,
Mary Jane Girls,
Bootsy Collins,
Hardrive,
Rotary Connection,
Ituana,
CMW,
Vainqueur,
Darondo,
The Music Machine,
Moss Icon,
The Golliwogs,
The Raincoats,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Harpers Bizarre,
Banda Bassotti,
Dead Boys,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Josef K,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Selecter,
Goldenarms,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Popol Vuh,
Soulsonic Force,
L. Decosne,
Procol Harum,
Jandek,
Cameo,
Ronan,
Oneida,
Brick,
Stereo Dub,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Section 25, Section 25, Section 25, Section 25.
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.