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 Azerbaijan and from Manila.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Winnipeg.
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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the marimba 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 Rosa Yemen to the techno 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 Howard Jones. All the underground hits.
All Gary Puckett & The Union Gap tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kaleidoscope record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 linndrum and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dead C record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ornette Coleman,
The Fall,
Skriet,
Guru Guru,
Excepter,
Thompson Twins,
Icehouse,
The Angels of Light,
Quadrant,
Camouflage,
Simply Red,
Aural Exciters,
The Index,
Brand Nubian,
Marcia Griffiths,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Johnny Osbourne,
Inner City,
Lee Hazlewood,
Faust,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Marc Almond,
The Martian,
ABBA,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Tremeloes,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Bad Manners,
Reagan Youth,
Nirvana,
Newcleus,
LL Cool J,
Talk Talk,
Hoover,
Massinfluence,
Anakelly,
Josef K,
Scratch Acid,
Aswad,
The Happenings,
Althea and Donna,
Half Japanese,
A Certain Ratio,
Matthew Halsall,
Chrome,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Alice Coltrane,
Bobby Sherman,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Eve St. Jones,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Adolescents,
Gichy Dan,
Gabor Szabo,
Tomorrow,
One Last Wish,
Joyce Sims,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
the Soft Cell,
E-Dancer,
Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip.
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.