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 United Kingdom and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Mark Hollis to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Eve St. Jones. All the underground hits.
All the Germs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Remains record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wings 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?
Electric Prunes,
Sparks,
Thompson Twins,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Pylon,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Altered Images,
Ohio Players,
Roy Ayers,
Porter Ricks,
Gerry Rafferty,
Wasted Youth,
Aloha Tigers,
The Misunderstood,
U.S. Maple,
The Human League,
Althea and Donna,
The Kinks,
Gang Gang Dance,
X-Ray Spex,
Mad Mike,
Pere Ubu,
Youth Brigade,
The Black Dice,
Yellowson,
The Seeds,
Amazonics,
Fluxion,
DNA,
Shoche,
Deadbeat,
John Cale,
Bobby Sherman,
Marine Girls,
Janne Schatter,
R.M.O.,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Von Mondo,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Names,
Lightning Bolt,
Scion,
These Immortal Souls,
Matthew Bourne,
Maleditus Sound,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sound Behaviour,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Wire,
Kaleidoscope,
Byron Stingily,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Lou Reed,
Dennis Brown,
Sex Pistols,
Robert Görl,
Rites of Spring,
L. Decosne,
Albert Ayler,
Cymande,
Popol Vuh,
June Days,
Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance.
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.