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 Chad and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the theremin 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 Manfred Mann's Earth Band to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Crash Course in Science. All the underground hits.
All Skaos tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cabaret Voltaire record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Sheep record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Depeche Mode,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Flesh Eaters,
Man Parrish,
The Wake,
Johnny Clarke,
Grauzone,
Nick Fraelich,
Suburban Knight,
Donny Hathaway,
Adolescents,
Kaleidoscope,
Talk Talk,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Simply Red,
Laurel Aitken,
Lindisfarne,
Surgeon,
Theoretical Girls,
Liliput,
Bill Wells,
Jeff Mills,
The Moody Blues,
Patti Smith,
LL Cool J,
The Monochrome Set,
Mad Mike,
X-Ray Spex,
The Smiths,
Franke,
The Walker Brothers,
Kool Moe Dee,
Swans,
Gang Gang Dance,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Terry Callier,
Bluetip,
The Fortunes,
Robert Hood,
Lyres,
Colin Newman,
Fat Boys,
Andrew Hill,
Warren Ellis,
The Modern Lovers,
Outsiders,
The Sound,
The Cramps,
Cybotron,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Desert Stars,
Television,
Rotary Connection,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Freddie Wadling,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Organ,
Young Marble Giants,
Minny Pops,
Roxy Music,
Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub.
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.