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 Colombia and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and London.
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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Electric Prunes to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Skaos. All the underground hits.
All Easy Going tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers Ubiquity record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wally Richardson 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?
Hasil Adkins,
Roger Hodgson,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Monks,
Nation of Ulysses,
Deepchord,
Brothers Johnson,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Gerry Rafferty,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Malaria!,
World's Most,
Circle Jerks,
Kayak,
Avey Tare,
The Kinks,
Curtis Mayfield,
Kurtis Blow,
The Misunderstood,
Anthony Braxton,
Archie Shepp,
Robert Görl,
Eddi Front,
kango's stein massive,
Absolute Body Control,
James White and The Blacks,
Smog,
Todd Terry,
Minor Threat,
The Gories,
Sam Rivers,
Lee Hazlewood,
Gang of Four,
Soft Cell,
KRS-One,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Dave Gahan,
Wire,
Hot Snakes,
Fad Gadget,
Technova,
The Mummies,
The Knickerbockers,
Reuben Wilson,
Davy DMX,
Radio Birdman,
Boz Scaggs,
The Alarm Clocks,
Steve Hackett,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Crispian St. Peters,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Remains,
Sound Behaviour,
K-Klass,
CMW,
Kenny Larkin,
Ultra Naté,
Public Enemy,
The Cramps,
Animal Collective, Animal Collective, Animal Collective, Animal Collective.
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.