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 Jamaica and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 Delhi and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
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 Altered Images to the rock 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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark. All the underground hits.
All Crime tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Womack 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Pus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Blues Magoos,
Little Man,
Sister Nancy,
Dawn Penn,
Q65,
The Motions,
The Music Machine,
Barrington Levy,
Desert Stars,
Panda Bear,
Popol Vuh,
The Smoke,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Cecil Taylor,
Zapp,
The Modern Lovers,
Groovy Waters,
Swans,
Gil Scott Heron,
Idris Muhammad,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Pulsallama,
Al Stewart,
Cal Tjader,
Unrelated Segments,
the Swans,
Qualms,
The Neon Judgement,
Excepter,
Japan,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Crash Course in Science,
The Moleskins,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Lee Hazlewood,
Gichy Dan,
Pole,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Spoonie Gee,
The Searchers,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Avey Tare,
Livin' Joy,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Doors,
Deakin,
Lightning Bolt,
Ralphi Rosario,
David Axelrod,
Crime,
Henry Cow,
Letta Mbulu,
The United States of America,
Sun City Girls,
Rekid,
Youth Brigade,
Easy Going,
Barry Ungar,
Young Marble Giants,
Tommy Roe,
Pet Shop Boys,
Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne.
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.