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 Hungary and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth to the dance 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 Carl Craig. All the underground hits.
All Gang of Four tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Axelrod record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 10cc record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Black Dice,
The Index,
The Fortunes,
Peter & Gordon,
Malaria!,
Sonic Youth,
Juan Atkins,
Au Pairs,
Y Pants,
The Techniques,
Inner City,
Niagra,
Alphaville,
The Fall,
Warsaw,
The Fugs,
Pole,
Jacques Brel,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The American Breed,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Camouflage,
MC5,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Blossom Toes,
Stetsasonic,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Anakelly,
UT,
Carl Craig,
The Beau Brummels,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Names,
Yazoo,
Michelle Simonal,
The Monks,
Marvin Gaye,
The Alarm Clocks,
Procol Harum,
Siglo XX,
The Sound,
Lungfish,
Quando Quango,
James White and The Blacks,
Talk Talk,
The Dead C,
Depeche Mode,
New Order,
Lyres,
Gong,
The Wake,
Wally Richardson,
Dark Day,
Fad Gadget,
Livin' Joy,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Sun Ra,
Bronski Beat,
Jesper Dahlback,
Man Eating Sloth,
Mark Hollis,
the Slits, the Slits, the Slits, the Slits.
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.