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 Djibouti and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the organ 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 The Mummies to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 JFA. All the underground hits.
All Loose Ends tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Offenders record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerrie Biddell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cheater Slicks,
Symarip,
The Motions,
Underground Resistance,
Moss Icon,
Scratch Acid,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Silicon Teens,
The Detroit Cobras,
the Slits,
Todd Rundgren,
Joensuu 1685,
Country Teasers,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Infiniti,
Funkadelic,
Gang Gang Dance,
Camberwell Now,
These Immortal Souls,
Gil Scott Heron,
Soft Cell,
DNA,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Yusef Lateef,
World's Most,
Nick Fraelich,
Lakeside,
X-102,
Eric Copeland,
Blossom Toes,
The Fuzztones,
Yazoo,
Lightning Bolt,
Cameo,
Matthew Halsall,
OOIOO,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Au Pairs,
Pantytec,
Rod Modell,
The Fall,
Sun City Girls,
The Martian,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
John Cale,
Roxette,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Sugar Minott,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Monochrome Set,
Terrestrial Tones,
Essential Logic,
The Trojans,
Morten Harket,
Albert Ayler,
Guru Guru,
Soft Machine,
Electric Prunes,
The Dead C,
The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola.
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.