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 El Salvador and from Delhi.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Busters to the punk 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 Mandrill. All the underground hits.
All Stetsasonic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Judy Mowatt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deakin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Residents,
Ossler,
Con Funk Shun,
Popol Vuh,
X-102,
Byron Stingily,
Lou Christie,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Country Teasers,
Blossom Toes,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Knickerbockers,
Kerrie Biddell,
Cheater Slicks,
Roxy Music,
The Index,
The Skatalites,
the Soft Cell,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Sun Ra,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The New Christs,
Pylon,
Tropical Tobacco,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Anthony Braxton,
Ultravox,
Throbbing Gristle,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Kurtis Blow,
Das Ding,
Model 500,
New Age Steppers,
David McCallum,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Faust,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Eric B and Rakim,
Gil Scott Heron,
Arthur Verocai,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Yellowson,
June of 44,
Glambeats Corp.,
Bill Near,
8 Eyed Spy,
Howard Jones,
Swell Maps,
Fela Kuti,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Kaleidoscope,
Kayak,
cv313,
Girls At Our Best!,
David Bowie,
Mantronix,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Sparks,
Lou Reed,
The Offenders,
Schoolly D,
Soft Cell,
Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas.
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.