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 El Salvador and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Echo & the Bunnymen to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 ABBA. All the underground hits.
All Sly & The Family Stone tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glenn Branca record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Reagan Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Vogues,
This Heat,
Sexual Harrassment,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Derrick May,
Ice-T,
Leonard Cohen,
Gang of Four,
FM Einheit,
New York Dolls,
Jerry's Kids,
Outsiders,
David Bowie,
Niagra,
JFA,
Dorothy Ashby,
Severed Heads,
Nils Olav,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Lungfish,
Nirvana,
H. Thieme,
Pussy Galore,
The Music Machine,
U.S. Maple,
Kaleidoscope,
Accadde A,
Sun City Girls,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Mark Hollis,
Cal Tjader,
Jacques Brel,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Crash Course in Science,
Marcia Griffiths,
Swans,
The Doors,
Oblivians,
Quadrant,
Radiohead,
Soulsonic Force,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Monks,
Rekid,
Swell Maps,
Delon & Dalcan,
Moby Grape,
Ponytail,
Intrusion,
Soul II Soul,
Laurel Aitken,
Pere Ubu,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Deepchord,
Peter & Gordon,
Goldenarms,
Archie Shepp,
Grey Daturas,
the Swans,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Brand Nubian,
Jandek,
Scion, Scion, Scion, Scion.
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.