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 States and from Delhi.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Minutemen to the grime 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 Electric Light Orchestra. All the underground hits.
All The Fuzztones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terror Squad Feat. Camron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 a synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a A Flock of Seagulls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Almond,
Terry Callier,
MDC,
Gang Starr,
Nico,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Maurizio,
Junior Murvin,
Peter and Kerry,
Roger Hodgson,
Audionom,
Sonny Sharrock,
In Retrospect,
Simply Red,
Rakim,
Rod Modell,
Swell Maps,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Scratch Acid,
The Buckinghams,
Sam Rivers,
Severed Heads,
Connie Case,
Newcleus,
Wolf Eyes,
John Foxx,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Evens,
the Association,
Desert Stars,
Blake Baxter,
Isaac Hayes,
Bronski Beat,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Neon Judgement,
Easy Going,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Curtis Mayfield,
The Pretty Things,
Quadrant,
The Star Department,
Gerry Rafferty,
Cecil Taylor,
Magma,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Dual Sessions,
Soft Cell,
UT,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Five Americans,
David McCallum,
Reuben Wilson,
Tubeway Army,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Susan Cadogan,
Gichy Dan,
Buzzcocks,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Parry Music,
Ornette Coleman,
Ajijia Myrayebe, Ajijia Myrayebe, Ajijia Myrayebe, Ajijia Myrayebe.
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.