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 Comoros and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Victims to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Cluster. All the underground hits.
All Alice Coltrane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kayak record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Guru Guru record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Names,
Gil Scott Heron,
the Fania All-Stars,
Lungfish,
Traffic Nightmare,
Spoonie Gee,
Unrelated Segments,
The Gap Band,
Matthew Bourne,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Tears for Fears,
Suburban Knight,
Scott Walker,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Slackers,
Nick Fraelich,
Moby Grape,
Franke,
Heaven 17,
Magazine,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Tim Buckley,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Eurythmics,
Y Pants,
Pere Ubu,
Quando Quango,
Talk Talk,
Television,
David Axelrod,
The Invisible,
Ituana,
Ronnie Foster,
Lalann,
a-ha,
DNA,
Goldenarms,
Intrusion,
The Human League,
Duran Duran,
Blake Baxter,
Minor Threat,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Barry Ungar,
Alice Coltrane,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Aaron Thompson,
David McCallum,
Brass Construction,
Jacob Miller,
Bang On A Can,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Howard Jones,
Yusef Lateef,
The Stooges,
UT,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Angels of Light,
Von Mondo,
The Index,
Beasts of Bourbon,
T. Rex,
Larry & the Blue Notes, Larry & the Blue Notes, Larry & the Blue Notes, Larry & the Blue Notes.
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.