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 Belarus and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Bremen.
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 1984 at the first Arcadia 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 Pantaleimon to the dance 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 Aural Exciters. All the underground hits.
All Oneida tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a harpsichord 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 oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Sheep,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Wake,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Seeds,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Con Funk Shun,
Cybotron,
Stetsasonic,
Quadrant,
Juan Atkins,
Minutemen,
Trumans Water,
Bobby Sherman,
Ronan,
Nick Fraelich,
Scan 7,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
DJ Sneak,
Sixth Finger,
Gang Green,
Brass Construction,
The Neon Judgement,
The Busters,
Clear Light,
The Beau Brummels,
Cluster,
Ken Boothe,
Joey Negro,
Motorama,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Alphaville,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Fortunes,
The Zeros,
World's Most,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Neil Young,
The Monochrome Set,
Wolf Eyes,
Peter and Kerry,
Minor Threat,
Magazine,
L. Decosne,
Boogie Down Productions,
Pussy Galore,
Delon & Dalcan,
Cecil Taylor,
The Gories,
Eric Copeland,
Dead Boys,
Funkadelic,
Ultimate Spinach,
Excepter,
The Doobie Brothers,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Q65,
The Buckinghams,
The Music Machine,
Blancmange,
Bill Wells,
Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band.
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.