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 Sierra Leone and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the güiro 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 The Peanut Butter Conspiracy to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Letta Mbulu. All the underground hits.
All Youth Brigade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Metal Thangz 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fear record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mark Hollis,
Joy Division,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Charles Mingus,
Curtis Mayfield,
Morten Harket,
Drive Like Jehu,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Eurythmics,
Sugar Minott,
Can,
Black Pus,
Bob Dylan,
Kaleidoscope,
Gerry Rafferty,
Thompson Twins,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Fatback Band,
Todd Terry,
Steve Hackett,
The Dirtbombs,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Yaz,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Five Americans,
Pole,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Suburban Knight,
Gang Gang Dance,
Duran Duran,
The Walker Brothers,
The Mojo Men,
New Order,
David McCallum,
Brass Construction,
Echospace,
David Bowie,
Spandau Ballet,
cv313,
A Certain Ratio,
Tim Buckley,
Malaria!,
Electric Prunes,
Jeff Mills,
Marvin Gaye,
Scrapy,
Rosa Yemen,
Cal Tjader,
the Sonics,
T.S.O.L.,
X-Ray Spex,
Eric Dolphy,
Crime,
LL Cool J,
B.T. Express,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Moody Blues,
Essential Logic,
Sonny Sharrock,
U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple.
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.