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 Jordan and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the mellotron 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 The Gladiators to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Crime. All the underground hits.
All The Men They Couldn't Hang tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sällskapet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slave record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fat Boys,
Tomorrow,
Chris & Cosey,
Hot Snakes,
Kerri Chandler,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Smoke,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Rufus Thomas,
The Doobie Brothers,
Arab on Radar,
Cameo,
Isaac Hayes,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Jeff Lynne,
The Real Kids,
kango's stein massive,
Schoolly D,
June Days,
Mission of Burma,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Juan Atkins,
Television,
Swans,
The Slits,
Jacques Brel,
Crime,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Fire Engines,
Heaven 17,
Davy DMX,
Bobby Byrd,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Tres Demented,
X-102,
China Crisis,
Black Sheep,
Oneida,
Wolf Eyes,
Faust,
8 Eyed Spy,
David McCallum,
Eden Ahbez,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Dorothy Ashby,
Ponytail,
Sound Behaviour,
Siglo XX,
Unwound,
DNA,
Pussy Galore,
The Barracudas,
Ultravox,
Bauhaus,
John Foxx,
Joe Finger,
Inner City,
Funky Four + One,
Suburban Knight,
Babytalk,
Moebius, Moebius, Moebius, Moebius.
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.