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 Lebanon and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
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 American Breed 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 Zero Boys. All the underground hits.
All Delon & Dalcan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blossom Toes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Al Stewart record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Seeds,
The Cosmic Jokers,
R.M.O.,
Pantaleimon,
The Dead C,
Bootsy Collins,
Infiniti,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Smiths,
Deakin,
Gong,
Derrick Morgan,
Lungfish,
Spandau Ballet,
Gerry Rafferty,
Sexual Harrassment,
Silicon Teens,
Ice-T,
Angry Samoans,
Zapp,
Kerri Chandler,
The Count Five,
Matthew Halsall,
Spoonie Gee,
FM Einheit,
Agitation Free,
Althea and Donna,
The Walker Brothers,
Lakeside,
Amon Düül,
The Mummies,
Alice Coltrane,
Bobby Womack,
The Pop Group,
Organ,
Jerry's Kids,
Cybotron,
Todd Terry,
Sun Ra,
Robert Wyatt,
Little Man,
Letta Mbulu,
Bronski Beat,
Cecil Taylor,
Warsaw,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Deadbeat,
Sparks,
June of 44,
Wally Richardson,
Davy DMX,
Sound Behaviour,
X-102,
Amazonics,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Fear,
James White and The Blacks,
Jesper Dahlback,
Absolute Body Control,
In Retrospect,
Moby Grape,
Supertramp,
Masters at Work,
The Residents, The Residents, The Residents, The Residents.
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.