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 Czech Republic and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Scott Walker to the electroclash 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 Kayak. All the underground hits.
All OOIOO tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mighty Diamonds record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tears for Fears record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Echospace,
Gong,
Henry Cow,
Jeru the Damaja,
Sarah Menescal,
Bronski Beat,
Matthew Halsall,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Jerry's Kids,
Pussy Galore,
Gil Scott Heron,
Los Fastidios,
Robert Hood,
Marshall Jefferson,
Marc Almond,
Marmalade,
The Motions,
Schoolly D,
Patti Smith,
LL Cool J,
Heaven 17,
Wasted Youth,
The Mojo Men,
R.M.O.,
The Flesh Eaters,
Steve Hackett,
Robert Wyatt,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Toni Rubio,
Unrelated Segments,
Adolescents,
Kaleidoscope,
Au Pairs,
Eden Ahbez,
Hasil Adkins,
The Music Machine,
Magazine,
The Sound,
Rites of Spring,
Essential Logic,
Ludus,
Neil Young,
Donny Hathaway,
Juan Atkins,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Max Romeo,
June of 44,
Anthony Braxton,
Surgeon,
DJ Style,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Fat Boys,
Can,
The Fugs,
DNA,
The Sonics,
Traffic Nightmare,
X-Ray Spex,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Mars,
Barbara Tucker,
Barry Ungar,
Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment.
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.