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 Mali and from Lyon.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the 808 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 David Axelrod to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 John Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All Ultimate Spinach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Pop Group record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cramps record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Happenings,
the Association,
Bad Manners,
the Germs,
Derrick Morgan,
Severed Heads,
Andrew Hill,
Gichy Dan,
R.M.O.,
Aloha Tigers,
The Shadows of Knight,
Lindisfarne,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Franke,
Rufus Thomas,
Scratch Acid,
The American Breed,
The Barracudas,
Joey Negro,
Infiniti,
8 Eyed Spy,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The J.B.'s,
Cheater Slicks,
Idris Muhammad,
ABC,
Crispian St. Peters,
Mary Jane Girls,
Sight & Sound,
The Durutti Column,
Pantytec,
L. Decosne,
Tim Buckley,
Thompson Twins,
Smog,
Gang Starr,
Massinfluence,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Harry Pussy,
Dave Gahan,
The Neon Judgement,
Eddi Front,
Animal Collective,
DNA,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
New Order,
Gregory Isaacs,
Leonard Cohen,
Barry Ungar,
The Fuzztones,
Robert Görl,
Marine Girls,
Ponytail,
Masters at Work,
Marcia Griffiths,
Mo-Dettes,
Erykah Badu,
Yaz,
Boredoms,
Gerry Rafferty,
Johnny Osbourne,
Jimmy McGriff,
Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras.
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.