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 Germany and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 PIL to the techno 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 Blancmange. All the underground hits.
All Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Donald Byrd 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kenny Larkin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
It's A Beautiful Day,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Carl Craig,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Invisible,
Fela Kuti,
Donny Hathaway,
The Fortunes,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Bill Near,
Minutemen,
Todd Rundgren,
Glenn Branca,
Black Pus,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Cymande,
Barry Ungar,
Nirvana,
Ten City,
Crime,
Y Pants,
Tropical Tobacco,
Alphaville,
Kerri Chandler,
Moby Grape,
MC5,
the Association,
Organ,
Basic Channel,
Mark Hollis,
Bootsy Collins,
48th St. Collective,
Brick,
David Bowie,
Boredoms,
Icehouse,
Maurizio,
Quantec,
Robert Hood,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
DJ Sneak,
Blancmange,
Stiv Bators,
Shuggie Otis,
Neil Young,
David Axelrod,
The Gories,
Toni Rubio,
Public Image Ltd.,
8 Eyed Spy,
Vladislav Delay,
Quadrant,
Japan,
Boz Scaggs,
The Blackbyrds,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Gabor Szabo,
Khruangbin,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Names,
Yellowson,
Alison Limerick,
Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics.
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.