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 Tunisia and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 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 Maleditus Sound to the jazz 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 Amon Düül. All the underground hits.
All The Monochrome Set tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Little Man record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Todd Rundgren record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Outsiders,
The Selecter,
X-102,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Excepter,
The Saints,
Scientists,
H. Thieme,
David Bowie,
The Gladiators,
Anakelly,
Maurizio,
The Black Dice,
Wings,
Sarah Menescal,
Rhythm & Sound,
Aural Exciters,
the Bar-Kays,
Althea and Donna,
Crooked Eye,
DJ Style,
Buzzcocks,
the Slits,
Crispian St. Peters,
Motorama,
The Red Krayola,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Inner City,
Carl Craig,
Wolf Eyes,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Rites of Spring,
Quando Quango,
Ultimate Spinach,
Sixth Finger,
The Zeros,
Eric Dolphy,
La Düsseldorf,
Sällskapet,
Don Cherry,
Roy Ayers,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Pretty Things,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
the Association,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
a-ha,
Todd Rundgren,
Monks,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Maleditus Sound,
Lalann,
The Trojans,
Spandau Ballet,
Barrington Levy,
Oblivians,
Sonny Sharrock,
Charles Mingus,
Tommy Roe,
Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls.
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.