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 Lebanon and from Calgary.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba 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 T. Rex to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Pulsallama. All the underground hits.
All Nik Kershaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every E-Dancer record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Y Pants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Danielle Patucci,
Matthew Bourne,
Skarface,
Dawn Penn,
Can,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Shadows of Knight,
Icehouse,
Half Japanese,
The Remains,
Groovy Waters,
Bang On A Can,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
ABC,
Jimmy McGriff,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Selecter,
Depeche Mode,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Flipper,
Ossler,
Ultra Naté,
KRS-One,
L. Decosne,
Scan 7,
The Durutti Column,
Desert Stars,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Lebanon Hanover,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Tears for Fears,
Todd Rundgren,
The Velvet Underground,
Stiv Bators,
Suicide,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
D'Angelo,
Cal Tjader,
Scrapy,
Ten City,
Brick,
the Sonics,
Letta Mbulu,
Jeru the Damaja,
F. McDonald,
The Gun Club,
The Stooges,
Bush Tetras,
the Human League,
The Last Poets,
Maurizio,
Animal Collective,
Japan,
The Pretty Things,
Kayak,
Godley & Creme,
The Seeds,
Soulsonic Force,
Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell.
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.