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 Belarus and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Whodini to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Wasted Youth. All the underground hits.
All Man Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ice-T record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Boogie Down Productions record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-102,
Scratch Acid,
Tim Buckley,
Thee Headcoats,
Magma,
Pet Shop Boys,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Lee Hazlewood,
Gang Starr,
Echospace,
FM Einheit,
Joe Finger,
Soft Cell,
Joyce Sims,
Lucky Dragons,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Dead C,
The Pop Group,
Faraquet,
Spandau Ballet,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Bootsy Collins,
Jeff Mills,
DNA,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Delon & Dalcan,
T. Rex,
Y Pants,
Moss Icon,
Simply Red,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Neu!,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Slave,
This Heat,
June Days,
Erasure,
Kerrie Biddell,
Gang Green,
Aural Exciters,
Nico,
Terrestrial Tones,
Nik Kershaw,
Royal Trux,
Icehouse,
Amon Düül II,
Chrome,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Smiths,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Pussy Galore,
The Slits,
Fela Kuti,
Audionom,
Barry Ungar,
John Lydon,
Boredoms,
Bad Manners,
The Real Kids,
One Last Wish, One Last Wish, One Last Wish, One Last Wish.
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.