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 Turkmenistan and from Mexico City.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Mission of Burma to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 John Foxx. All the underground hits.
All One Last Wish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ponytail record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masters at Work record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Henry Cow,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Fifty Foot Hose,
David McCallum,
Warsaw,
Hoover,
Jacques Brel,
Young Marble Giants,
Matthew Bourne,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Oneida,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Alphaville,
Piero Umiliani,
David Axelrod,
Duran Duran,
Hashim,
Eli Mardock,
The Doobie Brothers,
Pharoah Sanders,
Schoolly D,
Rotary Connection,
Magazine,
Glenn Branca,
Unrelated Segments,
Crooked Eye,
Lou Christie,
Marshall Jefferson,
D'Angelo,
The Real Kids,
The Kinks,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Moody Blues,
Tears for Fears,
Ronan,
Newcleus,
Sound Behaviour,
The Sonics,
Amazonics,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Gladiators,
The New Christs,
Index,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Dead C,
The Cowsills,
Janne Schatter,
Buzzcocks,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Move,
Gang Green,
Marmalade,
Freddie Wadling,
Boredoms,
Lindisfarne,
Camberwell Now,
Alton Ellis,
Dual Sessions,
Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders.
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.