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 Costa Rica and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Delhi.
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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Deepchord to the grime 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 The United States of America. All the underground hits.
All Angels of Light & Akron/Family tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Electric Prunes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 an organ and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deakin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Neu!,
John Holt,
Slave,
Babytalk,
Eurythmics,
Hasil Adkins,
Guru Guru,
Thompson Twins,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
John Cale,
The Kinks,
Spoonie Gee,
Harpers Bizarre,
Sun City Girls,
Black Pus,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Neon Judgement,
Franke,
Black Flag,
Godley & Creme,
Ronnie Foster,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Carl Craig,
The Associates,
Buzzcocks,
B.T. Express,
Swans,
Brand Nubian,
Lalo Schifrin,
Bluetip,
Susan Cadogan,
Hot Snakes,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
John Lydon,
Visage,
New Order,
Kenny Larkin,
Urselle,
Johnny Clarke,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Arcadia,
LL Cool J,
Saccharine Trust,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Terry Callier,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Model 500,
Wasted Youth,
Throbbing Gristle,
Bobby Sherman,
Sister Nancy,
Joe Smooth,
Sam Rivers,
Kerrie Biddell,
Zero Boys,
Steve Hackett,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Prince Buster,
Goldenarms,
Average White Band, Average White Band, Average White Band, Average White Band.
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.