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 Tanzania and from Toronto.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Pop Group to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx. All the underground hits.
All Manfred Mann's Earth Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every H. Thieme 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ornette Coleman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pulsallama,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Misunderstood,
Jeff Lynne,
Dual Sessions,
R.M.O.,
Arab on Radar,
Monks,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Spandau Ballet,
OOIOO,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Skriet,
Maleditus Sound,
Altered Images,
Sexual Harrassment,
Dave Gahan,
Boz Scaggs,
Rosa Yemen,
Talk Talk,
The Fuzztones,
Severed Heads,
Maurizio,
Infiniti,
Minutemen,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Kayak,
The Smiths,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Bill Wells,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Althea and Donna,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Barclay James Harvest,
Rites of Spring,
Scrapy,
Crooked Eye,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Deakin,
Duran Duran,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Residents,
The Monochrome Set,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Little Man,
Shoche,
Index,
MC5,
Smog,
Rhythm & Sound,
Dorothy Ashby,
Minny Pops,
Babytalk,
The Move,
The Angels of Light,
Aswad,
Flipper,
John Cale,
Boogie Down Productions,
Lou Reed,
Camberwell Now,
Mandrill,
Easy Going,
The Last Poets,
Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army.
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.