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 Madagascar and from Winnipeg.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Little Man to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Sun Ra. All the underground hits.
All Gang Gang Dance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Slick Rick 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pylon,
David Bowie,
E-Dancer,
Mantronix,
cv313,
Charles Mingus,
Desert Stars,
June of 44,
Marc Almond,
Marshall Jefferson,
Agitation Free,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Whodini,
CMW,
Oneida,
Cybotron,
Qualms,
Thompson Twins,
The Slits,
X-101,
Swell Maps,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Country Teasers,
Darondo,
Camberwell Now,
Quadrant,
Stiv Bators,
Shoche,
Joy Division,
Erykah Badu,
Morten Harket,
The Busters,
Angry Samoans,
Frankie Knuckles,
Wings,
The Fall,
Pantytec,
Nils Olav,
Mark Hollis,
Little Man,
AZ,
Glenn Branca,
Funky Four + One,
La Düsseldorf,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Skriet,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Malaria!,
The Martian,
The Velvet Underground,
Tim Buckley,
Avey Tare,
Fad Gadget,
The Cure,
Aural Exciters,
Warsaw,
Aloha Tigers,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Juan Atkins,
Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics.
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.