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 New York.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Marc Almond to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Aural Exciters. All the underground hits.
All Brothers Johnson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispian St. Peters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rosa Yemen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kerrie Biddell,
DJ Sneak,
Bush Tetras,
The Sound,
Jerry's Kids,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Ludus,
Frankie Knuckles,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Flash Fearless,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Magazine,
the Fania All-Stars,
Basic Channel,
Supertramp,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Wings,
Soulsonic Force,
Cheater Slicks,
The Modern Lovers,
Underground Resistance,
Fatback Band,
Moss Icon,
Wire,
D'Angelo,
Yusef Lateef,
Ultravox,
Peter & Gordon,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Stetsasonic,
Saccharine Trust,
Aloha Tigers,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Hasil Adkins,
Motorama,
Dawn Penn,
Amazonics,
Model 500,
8 Eyed Spy,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Gang Gang Dance,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Beau Brummels,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Jeff Mills,
Harry Pussy,
The Doobie Brothers,
James White and The Blacks,
Harpers Bizarre,
Dorothy Ashby,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Busters,
Rufus Thomas,
The Star Department,
Byron Stingily,
Interpol,
The Monks,
Simply Red,
Scion,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse, Neil Young & Crazy Horse, Neil Young & Crazy Horse, Neil Young & Crazy Horse.
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.