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 China and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 T. Rex to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Gladiators. All the underground hits.
All Khruangbin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Index 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Move,
Ultra Naté,
Quantec,
The New Christs,
Sonic Youth,
Pantaleimon,
Pole,
Cecil Taylor,
LL Cool J,
Avey Tare,
Rekid,
The Last Poets,
a-ha,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Ten City,
Flipper,
Masters at Work,
Shoche,
Sound Behaviour,
Soul Sonic Force,
Newcleus,
Erasure,
Ludus,
Charles Mingus,
T. Rex,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Trumans Water,
Camberwell Now,
Qualms,
The Real Kids,
Anakelly,
Dawn Penn,
Pulsallama,
The Sonics,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Television,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Scott Walker,
Ralphi Rosario,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Red Krayola,
Wally Richardson,
John Lydon,
Marcia Griffiths,
Sex Pistols,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Detroit Cobras,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Divine Comedy,
Amon Düül,
Rotary Connection,
The Index,
Pagans,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Dead C,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Arcadia,
Smog,
Jeff Lynne,
CMW,
Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills.
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.