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 Slovenia and from Beijing.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 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 Count Five 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 Sexual Harrassment. All the underground hits.
All New York Dolls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blancmange record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Electric Prunes,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Move,
Wasted Youth,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Inner City,
Mary Jane Girls,
Vainqueur,
The Knickerbockers,
Nirvana,
CMW,
Girls At Our Best!,
Gabor Szabo,
MC5,
ABC,
Robert Wyatt,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Aloha Tigers,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Red Krayola,
Jimmy McGriff,
Barry Ungar,
Scrapy,
Silicon Teens,
The Wake,
David Bowie,
Eyeless In Gaza,
In Retrospect,
Big Daddy Kane,
L. Decosne,
Cecil Taylor,
Qualms,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Deepchord,
Mad Mike,
Terry Callier,
Boredoms,
Royal Trux,
Quantec,
Ossler,
Ice-T,
The Searchers,
Jandek,
Bang On A Can,
Glenn Branca,
Malaria!,
Chris Corsano,
Jesper Dahlback,
Motorama,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
One Last Wish,
the Fania All-Stars,
Lalo Schifrin,
Sound Behaviour,
Traffic Nightmare,
K-Klass,
Hoover,
Smog,
The Remains,
Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat.
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.