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 Uganda and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Spokane.
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 harpsichord 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 the Fania All-Stars to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Gong. All the underground hits.
All Rapeman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantytec record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monks,
Model 500,
Unrelated Segments,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Liliput,
H. Thieme,
Oneida,
Matthew Halsall,
Joe Finger,
Porter Ricks,
Ken Boothe,
Nico,
Eurythmics,
Tomorrow,
Slick Rick,
The Gap Band,
The Wake,
F. McDonald,
Marmalade,
Lungfish,
Royal Trux,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Wire,
Q and Not U,
Warsaw,
Mantronix,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Make Up,
U.S. Maple,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Pere Ubu,
Kerri Chandler,
The Black Dice,
the Germs,
Warren Ellis,
MDC,
Pulsallama,
Juan Atkins,
Maleditus Sound,
The Grass Roots,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Erykah Badu,
Aural Exciters,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Leonard Cohen,
Mr. Review,
Pole,
Tres Demented,
The Sound,
Lou Christie,
The Human League,
Motorama,
Curtis Mayfield,
CMW,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Residents,
Symarip,
Sandy B,
The Martian,
Skarface,
Aaron Thompson,
Yazoo,
The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers.
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.