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 Luxembourg and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 DeepChord presents Echospace to the techno 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 Camouflage. All the underground hits.
All Blancmange tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 8 Eyed Spy 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eddi Front record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Christie,
Sugar Minott,
Ponytail,
Thee Headcoats,
Warsaw,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
H. Thieme,
The Wake,
The Mojo Men,
Laurel Aitken,
China Crisis,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Outsiders,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Eric Dolphy,
Second Layer,
Zapp,
Bronski Beat,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Yusef Lateef,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Cal Tjader,
Tropical Tobacco,
Peter and Kerry,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Harry Pussy,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Max Romeo,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Pere Ubu,
Circle Jerks,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Terrestrial Tones,
the Slits,
Tom Boy,
ABC,
Con Funk Shun,
Electric Light Orchestra,
FM Einheit,
Cecil Taylor,
kango's stein massive,
Mission of Burma,
Television Personalities,
Smog,
The Shadows of Knight,
Wings,
Sex Pistols,
The Sonics,
Yazoo,
Henry Cow,
Kerri Chandler,
Bang On A Can,
Fad Gadget,
a-ha,
Idris Muhammad,
Cluster,
Gang Gang Dance,
Shuggie Otis,
The Techniques,
Unrelated Segments,
La Düsseldorf,
Von Mondo,
The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams.
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.