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 Namibia and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 The Associates to the dance 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 Sex Pistols. All the underground hits.
All Sound Behaviour tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Henry Cow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Schoolly D record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Martian,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Mary Jane Girls,
Fifty Foot Hose,
the Germs,
Jeru the Damaja,
Guru Guru,
The Knickerbockers,
Stetsasonic,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
cv313,
Young Marble Giants,
Monolake,
Bill Near,
Jeff Mills,
Symarip,
Eric Copeland,
Bobby Sherman,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Echospace,
Brick,
Marine Girls,
These Immortal Souls,
Pere Ubu,
Chrome,
David Bowie,
The Mojo Men,
The Misunderstood,
Mark Hollis,
Marshall Jefferson,
Yellowson,
Slick Rick,
EPMD,
Pantaleimon,
Lower 48,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Sun City Girls,
The Pop Group,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Kas Product,
Yaz,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Blancmange,
Alton Ellis,
Rapeman,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Music Machine,
Rhythm & Sound,
Eden Ahbez,
Second Layer,
Dual Sessions,
Gichy Dan,
Scion,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Invisible,
This Heat,
The Neon Judgement,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Goldenarms,
Newcleus,
The Human League,
Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson.
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.