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 Congo and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Bobby Hutcherson to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All Ultra Naté tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scratch Acid record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kaleidoscope record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jesper Dahlback,
Camouflage,
Don Cherry,
Wire,
Nik Kershaw,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Jeff Mills,
Inner City,
David Axelrod,
Amazonics,
Quando Quango,
Subhumans,
Roxy Music,
The Slackers,
Morten Harket,
Camberwell Now,
Colin Newman,
Television Personalities,
Pierre Henry,
Zapp,
Lindisfarne,
The Shadows of Knight,
Dark Day,
Symarip,
Cymande,
Echospace,
Sound Behaviour,
Section 25,
The Beau Brummels,
Vladislav Delay,
Man Parrish,
Pylon,
Harry Pussy,
Peter and Kerry,
June of 44,
Matthew Bourne,
Amon Düül,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Dennis Brown,
Half Japanese,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Slave,
Ohio Players,
Motorama,
Guru Guru,
The Dead C,
Magma,
Roy Ayers,
cv313,
Deepchord,
Maleditus Sound,
Au Pairs,
H. Thieme,
Robert Hood,
Stereo Dub,
Robert Wyatt,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Danielle Patucci,
Adolescents,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Soft Cell,
Cecil Taylor,
Accadde A,
The Litter, The Litter, The Litter, The Litter.
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.