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 Equatorial Guinea and from Bologna.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the sitar 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 Crispian St. Peters to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Divine Comedy. All the underground hits.
All Jacob Miller tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every F. McDonald record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 mellotron and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a June of 44 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Malaria!,
Lindisfarne,
Fela Kuti,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Clear Light,
These Immortal Souls,
Barbara Tucker,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Quando Quango,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Mad Mike,
D'Angelo,
David Axelrod,
Scratch Acid,
Crooked Eye,
Terry Callier,
JFA,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Bauhaus,
Lightning Bolt,
Dark Day,
Ronan,
Ultra Naté,
Soulsonic Force,
Colin Newman,
T. Rex,
Liliput,
Eve St. Jones,
The Associates,
Roxy Music,
Silicon Teens,
One Last Wish,
Yazoo,
The Litter,
Organ,
Underground Resistance,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Angry Samoans,
Gang Green,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Frankie Knuckles,
Kurtis Blow,
F. McDonald,
Moebius,
Vainqueur,
Dennis Brown,
Trumans Water,
The Sonics,
Idris Muhammad,
Excepter,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Smog,
Zero Boys,
Oneida,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Motorama,
Black Moon,
Television,
Bad Manners,
Kenny Larkin,
Chrome,
Joe Finger,
David McCallum, David McCallum, David McCallum, David McCallum.
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.