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 Gambia and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 sitar 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 Jerry Gold Smith to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Matthew Bourne. All the underground hits.
All The Misunderstood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Freddie Wadling record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
James White and The Blacks,
Donny Hathaway,
Trumans Water,
Whodini,
Brothers Johnson,
Supertramp,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Skarface,
The Cowsills,
the Swans,
The Durutti Column,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Terry Callier,
Buzzcocks,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Electric Prunes,
Marine Girls,
Shuggie Otis,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
ABC,
Quantec,
Brand Nubian,
U.S. Maple,
Pet Shop Boys,
Sonic Youth,
D'Angelo,
Ken Boothe,
Visage,
The Birthday Party,
OOIOO,
the Association,
One Last Wish,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Graham Central Station,
A Certain Ratio,
The Toasters,
Harpers Bizarre,
X-102,
Jeff Lynne,
Robert Görl,
The Names,
Henry Cow,
Ornette Coleman,
cv313,
Lyres,
Agitation Free,
Cluster,
Colin Newman,
Avey Tare,
Kas Product,
JFA,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Wire,
Shoche,
Skriet,
Hot Snakes,
Moebius,
Los Fastidios,
Rakim,
Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat.
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.