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 Italy and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Gang Gang Dance to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Terrestrial Tones. All the underground hits.
All Oneida tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeff Lynne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fortunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
It's A Beautiful Day,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Tres Demented,
Niagra,
Fear,
The Standells,
Con Funk Shun,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Jimmy McGriff,
Rekid,
Tears for Fears,
Alison Limerick,
Q65,
Bill Wells,
Bang On A Can,
the Sonics,
Chris & Cosey,
Camouflage,
Nik Kershaw,
Motorama,
Lyres,
Pere Ubu,
Tom Boy,
The Sound,
Grey Daturas,
Ronan,
the Association,
The Kinks,
Lucky Dragons,
The Names,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
B.T. Express,
Todd Terry,
The Fugs,
Yaz,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Funkadelic,
Bobby Byrd,
Radiohead,
Scan 7,
Metal Thangz,
Ken Boothe,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
10cc,
Avey Tare,
Donny Hathaway,
The Flesh Eaters,
Depeche Mode,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Scrapy,
Freddie Wadling,
Girls At Our Best!,
Eric B and Rakim,
Drexciya,
The Angels of Light,
Joyce Sims,
The Moleskins,
Suicide, Suicide, Suicide, Suicide.
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.