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 Papua New Guinea and from Houston.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Young Marble Giants to the dance 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 Section 25. All the underground hits.
All Gabor Szabo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Henry Cow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Albert Ayler record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Womack,
Terrestrial Tones,
Outsiders,
ABC,
Altered Images,
Sandy B,
Country Teasers,
Eve St. Jones,
This Heat,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Stooges,
Flipper,
Scott Walker,
The Searchers,
Alison Limerick,
Pulsallama,
The Raincoats,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Sex Pistols,
Ice-T,
Nik Kershaw,
Dennis Brown,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Rapeman,
The Flesh Eaters,
Idris Muhammad,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Modern Lovers,
Jacob Miller,
The Beau Brummels,
Byron Stingily,
Masters at Work,
Liliput,
Electric Prunes,
Godley & Creme,
Colin Newman,
Chrome,
Severed Heads,
Tubeway Army,
John Foxx,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Vainqueur,
Infiniti,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Jeff Lynne,
Isaac Hayes,
Joe Smooth,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Alphaville,
The Electric Prunes,
Youth Brigade,
Lightning Bolt,
Laurel Aitken,
The Moody Blues,
Interpol,
Unrelated Segments,
Rufus Thomas,
Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans.
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.