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 Luxembourg and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 10cc to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Angry Samoans. All the underground hits.
All Connie Case tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Letta Mbulu 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Parry Music record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tears for Fears,
The Dead C,
Nico,
Connie Case,
Radio Birdman,
Laurel Aitken,
Amazonics,
Chrome,
Das Ding,
John Foxx,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Depeche Mode,
Kerrie Biddell,
Monolake,
Maleditus Sound,
David Axelrod,
Eve St. Jones,
A Certain Ratio,
Joe Smooth,
Pylon,
KRS-One,
Rhythm & Sound,
Wasted Youth,
Marvin Gaye,
The Slackers,
Goldenarms,
Whodini,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
New Age Steppers,
Hashim,
Eddi Front,
The Neon Judgement,
Brass Construction,
The Gladiators,
Surgeon,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Bronski Beat,
Man Eating Sloth,
Rites of Spring,
the Soft Cell,
Johnny Clarke,
Roxette,
PIL,
Tropical Tobacco,
Blake Baxter,
Swans,
Anthony Braxton,
Little Man,
H. Thieme,
Johnny Osbourne,
Soft Machine,
The Alarm Clocks,
Circle Jerks,
The Real Kids,
Fluxion,
F. McDonald,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Cowsills,
Man Parrish,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Wolf Eyes,
Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma.
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.