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 Bahrain and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Bowie to the funk 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 Buckinghams. All the underground hits.
All Warsaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Echospace record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Surgeon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fifty Foot Hose,
Spandau Ballet,
Kevin Saunderson,
Underground Resistance,
Slick Rick,
Dorothy Ashby,
Rotary Connection,
Sällskapet,
Procol Harum,
Rod Modell,
Monks,
Fela Kuti,
Terry Callier,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Rapeman,
Motorama,
Joey Negro,
Lebanon Hanover,
Ponytail,
Morten Harket,
The Wake,
Los Fastidios,
DJ Style,
Mr. Review,
The Monochrome Set,
Ice-T,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
cv313,
Con Funk Shun,
Ultra Naté,
Judy Mowatt,
Jerry Gold Smith,
B.T. Express,
Funky Four + One,
Buzzcocks,
Hot Snakes,
Maurizio,
Junior Murvin,
Sandy B,
Alice Coltrane,
The Doors,
ABBA,
Wally Richardson,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Franke,
Quantec,
The Smoke,
Kool Moe Dee,
Theoretical Girls,
X-102,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Evens,
Hasil Adkins,
The Pop Group,
a-ha,
EPMD,
The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos.
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.