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 Cyprus and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Sex Pistols to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Gian Franco Pienzio. All the underground hits.
All Cameo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ponytail record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fat Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Alarm Clocks,
Theoretical Girls,
The Detroit Cobras,
Saccharine Trust,
Magma,
Technova,
Wire,
Curtis Mayfield,
Gabor Szabo,
Au Pairs,
The Human League,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Joey Negro,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Cecil Taylor,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
the Soft Cell,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Moody Blues,
Barrington Levy,
The Fortunes,
Crispy Ambulance,
Godley & Creme,
David Bowie,
Tres Demented,
Chrome,
Don Cherry,
Animal Collective,
Newcleus,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Avey Tare,
The Knickerbockers,
Bobby Sherman,
Marmalade,
Angry Samoans,
Fugazi,
Oneida,
Scion,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Heaven 17,
DJ Sneak,
Moby Grape,
Main Source,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Pet Shop Boys,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Absolute Body Control,
Erykah Badu,
Quantec,
The Gladiators,
The Walker Brothers,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Public Enemy,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Archie Shepp,
Janne Schatter,
Morten Harket,
Lightning Bolt,
Eli Mardock,
Sight & Sound,
Johnny Osbourne,
Jandek,
Ronnie Foster,
Urselle, Urselle, Urselle, Urselle.
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.