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 Panama and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 arpeggiator 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 United States of America to the rock 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 The Vogues. All the underground hits.
All The Flesh Eaters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boz Scaggs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a ABBA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Green,
The Pretty Things,
The Mojo Men,
Rakim,
cv313,
Pierre Henry,
Q and Not U,
Ultra Naté,
Iggy Pop,
Jerry's Kids,
Ossler,
Moebius,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Hoover,
the Soft Cell,
The Alarm Clocks,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Theoretical Girls,
K-Klass,
Scrapy,
Delta 5,
The Cowsills,
Rites of Spring,
Electric Prunes,
Beasts of Bourbon,
ABBA,
The Monks,
a-ha,
Todd Rundgren,
Dual Sessions,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Procol Harum,
Scientists,
Judy Mowatt,
Pylon,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Sound Behaviour,
Boredoms,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Bill Near,
Tim Buckley,
Youth Brigade,
F. McDonald,
Public Enemy,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Cymande,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Nico,
Crispy Ambulance,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Grauzone,
Chrome,
Model 500,
kango's stein massive,
Idris Muhammad,
John Lydon,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
the Fania All-Stars,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics.
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.