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 Indonesia and from Accra.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Barry Ungar to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Second Layer. All the underground hits.
All Goldenarms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rotary Connection record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nik Kershaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Womack,
Bang On A Can,
Gong,
Fugazi,
Mission of Burma,
The Moody Blues,
These Immortal Souls,
Inner City,
Rites of Spring,
Aloha Tigers,
Glenn Branca,
The Sound,
Marc Almond,
Heaven 17,
The Monks,
Rufus Thomas,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Circle Jerks,
Roxette,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Donny Hathaway,
L. Decosne,
Visage,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Monolake,
Cecil Taylor,
Ken Boothe,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Sound Behaviour,
Pharoah Sanders,
Traffic Nightmare,
Lalo Schifrin,
Pierre Henry,
Procol Harum,
The Saints,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Alarm Clocks,
Lungfish,
Average White Band,
Pulsallama,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
K-Klass,
Siglo XX,
Can,
Sex Pistols,
Chris & Cosey,
Gastr Del Sol,
Joe Smooth,
Magma,
Black Flag,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Amazonics,
Goldenarms,
Tim Buckley,
Eurythmics,
This Heat,
Gichy Dan,
Brothers Johnson,
Crispian St. Peters,
Adolescents,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Joensuu 1685,
Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt.
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.