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 Australia and from New York.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 DNA to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Mo-Dettes. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dead Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum 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 Red Krayola,
Funky Four + One,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
the Bar-Kays,
Bizarre Inc.,
Duran Duran,
LL Cool J,
L. Decosne,
Agitation Free,
F. McDonald,
Symarip,
Grauzone,
Niagra,
The J.B.'s,
Fad Gadget,
48th St. Collective,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Quantec,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Stereo Dub,
June of 44,
Sugar Minott,
Gil Scott Heron,
T. Rex,
The Electric Prunes,
Unrelated Segments,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Jawbox,
Prince Buster,
The Seeds,
The Fire Engines,
Simply Red,
the Swans,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Grandmaster Flash,
Nik Kershaw,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Blackbyrds,
Radiopuhelimet,
Eli Mardock,
Laurel Aitken,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Smiths,
Black Flag,
Icehouse,
Banda Bassotti,
Albert Ayler,
Drexciya,
Organ,
Wolf Eyes,
Loose Ends,
D'Angelo,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Gladiators,
Vainqueur,
Marmalade,
Wire,
Alphaville,
Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox.
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.