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 Comoros and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Malaria! to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Moebius. All the underground hits.
All Unrelated Segments tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quando Quango 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Techniques record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minutemen,
the Slits,
Mo-Dettes,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Fall,
Public Enemy,
Eden Ahbez,
Banda Bassotti,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Ornette Coleman,
Symarip,
Pierre Henry,
Quando Quango,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Supertramp,
D'Angelo,
New Age Steppers,
The Dead C,
Severed Heads,
Lyres,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Rapeman,
The Smoke,
Television,
Q65,
Sixth Finger,
Barbara Tucker,
The Offenders,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Gories,
Spoonie Gee,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Curtis Mayfield,
Lou Reed,
U.S. Maple,
Terry Callier,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Lee Hazlewood,
Gastr Del Sol,
10cc,
Harpers Bizarre,
Sound Behaviour,
Lungfish,
Das Ding,
Pussy Galore,
The Monks,
The New Christs,
Sällskapet,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Reagan Youth,
Soul II Soul,
Connie Case,
Mark Hollis,
The Doobie Brothers,
Monolake,
Dual Sessions,
H. Thieme,
Crispian St. Peters,
Anakelly, Anakelly, Anakelly, Anakelly.
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.