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 Malawi and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Grauzone to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 DeepChord presents Echospace. All the underground hits.
All The Index tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moebius record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Anakelly record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gerry Rafferty,
Marc Almond,
Kenny Larkin,
Saccharine Trust,
Nik Kershaw,
Fatback Band,
Gong,
Second Layer,
Rosa Yemen,
R.M.O.,
The Blues Magoos,
Cluster,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Scratch Acid,
The Misunderstood,
Dave Gahan,
Subhumans,
The Doobie Brothers,
Darondo,
Juan Atkins,
Pussy Galore,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Buckinghams,
Unrelated Segments,
Stockholm Monsters,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Qualms,
Bobby Womack,
The Pretty Things,
The Vogues,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Arab on Radar,
Inner City,
Scrapy,
Young Marble Giants,
Underground Resistance,
Faust,
Man Eating Sloth,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
T.S.O.L.,
The Selecter,
Television,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Roxette,
Porter Ricks,
Eurythmics,
Black Flag,
Derrick Morgan,
Duran Duran,
The Trojans,
Carl Craig,
Motorama,
Q and Not U,
Ronnie Foster,
The Toasters,
The Moleskins,
June of 44,
Los Fastidios,
Erasure,
H. Thieme,
The American Breed,
Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill.
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.