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 United Kingdom and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Eli Mardock to the techno 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 Deepchord. All the underground hits.
All Sad Lovers and Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crooked Eye 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arab on Radar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deepchord,
Goldenarms,
The Red Krayola,
Nation of Ulysses,
Fear,
Anthony Braxton,
Sound Behaviour,
The Modern Lovers,
Arab on Radar,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Alphaville,
Eli Mardock,
Pere Ubu,
Nik Kershaw,
Infiniti,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Blancmange,
The Motions,
Arcadia,
Procol Harum,
Idris Muhammad,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Curtis Mayfield,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Mantronix,
Soft Machine,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
John Coltrane,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Vladislav Delay,
Scion,
Hot Snakes,
Television,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Offenders,
New York Dolls,
Hoover,
Stetsasonic,
David Axelrod,
Absolute Body Control,
Robert Görl,
Scientists,
The Slits,
Bootsy Collins,
Essential Logic,
Derrick May,
Echospace,
Mr. Review,
Slave,
The Happenings,
Accadde A,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Thee Headcoats,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Big Daddy Kane,
Public Image Ltd.,
Wally Richardson,
Quadrant, Quadrant, Quadrant, Quadrant.
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.