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 Italy and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Easy Going to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Eric B and Rakim. All the underground hits.
All Tropical Tobacco tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neu! record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moss Icon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pantaleimon,
Deakin,
The Shadows of Knight,
Davy DMX,
Marine Girls,
Blancmange,
Monks,
Scientists,
ABC,
The Victims,
Khruangbin,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Von Mondo,
Simply Red,
New York Dolls,
Rites of Spring,
Fugazi,
Sparks,
Harry Pussy,
Brothers Johnson,
Rakim,
Mark Hollis,
John Foxx,
The United States of America,
Audionom,
Nirvana,
Cluster,
Faust,
Funkadelic,
Los Fastidios,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Music Machine,
X-Ray Spex,
Brass Construction,
Infiniti,
T.S.O.L.,
Procol Harum,
Cybotron,
The Stooges,
Kevin Saunderson,
Accadde A,
The Dead C,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Wasted Youth,
The Young Rascals,
The Divine Comedy,
Goldenarms,
Hot Snakes,
Roxy Music,
Kaleidoscope,
Fad Gadget,
The Evens,
Suicide,
Jeff Lynne,
Neu!,
Wings,
Gang of Four,
Godley & Creme,
Ultimate Spinach,
Ossler,
Liliput,
Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier.
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.