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 South Africa and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Colin Newman to the grunge 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 Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan. All the underground hits.
All Eden Ahbez tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Babytalk record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Alarm Clocks,
The Angels of Light,
Blancmange,
Rites of Spring,
Scion,
The Mummies,
Y Pants,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Jimmy McGriff,
Nils Olav,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Cybotron,
Visage,
Kaleidoscope,
Yaz,
Outsiders,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Howard Jones,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
UT,
Underground Resistance,
Flash Fearless,
Big Daddy Kane,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Thompson Twins,
X-102,
Siglo XX,
Camouflage,
Derrick Morgan,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Pierre Henry,
Pole,
The Fortunes,
Reuben Wilson,
Rekid,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Icehouse,
Peter and Kerry,
This Heat,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Mo-Dettes,
The Techniques,
Das Ding,
Jeff Lynne,
Eli Mardock,
Ponytail,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Joensuu 1685,
The Offenders,
The Neon Judgement,
Jeff Mills,
Adolescents,
Henry Cow,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Doors,
Silicon Teens,
Sound Behaviour,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The J.B.'s,
Bobby Sherman,
Boredoms,
Schoolly D, Schoolly D, Schoolly D, Schoolly D.
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.