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 Estonia and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Icehouse to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Human League. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers Ubiquity tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kings Of Tomorrow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 a guitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Charles Mingus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott Heron,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Livin' Joy,
Fat Boys,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Monolake,
La Düsseldorf,
Interpol,
Duran Duran,
Fad Gadget,
The Mummies,
Adolescents,
Malaria!,
Average White Band,
Surgeon,
E-Dancer,
Bad Manners,
Andrew Hill,
Scott Walker,
Joe Finger,
Rakim,
Infiniti,
Ultra Naté,
the Fania All-Stars,
Desert Stars,
Flamin' Groovies,
Lebanon Hanover,
Amon Düül,
L. Decosne,
The Busters,
Pylon,
Subhumans,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Lalo Schifrin,
Thee Headcoats,
Sparks,
Tropical Tobacco,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Pulsallama,
Nirvana,
Warsaw,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Stockholm Monsters,
Robert Görl,
Yazoo,
Gregory Isaacs,
Black Sheep,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Icehouse,
Camberwell Now,
Wasted Youth,
the Soft Cell,
Kaleidoscope,
Severed Heads,
The Names,
Hoover,
The Litter,
Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja.
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.