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 Mexico and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Dark Day to the dance 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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band. All the underground hits.
All Heaven 17 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Drexciya record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharoah Sanders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum 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 Fall,
Crime,
Pulsallama,
Skaos,
Ken Boothe,
The Buckinghams,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Toasters,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Althea and Donna,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
the Bar-Kays,
John Coltrane,
Dave Gahan,
Scientists,
Tears for Fears,
Agent Orange,
Archie Shepp,
The Names,
Moebius,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Camouflage,
Jeru the Damaja,
Bootsy Collins,
Fear,
The Offenders,
Anthony Braxton,
Charles Mingus,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Rakim,
Spoonie Gee,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Angels of Light,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Peter and Kerry,
The Cowsills,
Theoretical Girls,
Boogie Down Productions,
Soft Cell,
Eurythmics,
Susan Cadogan,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Severed Heads,
The Kinks,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Desert Stars,
Mars,
The Human League,
The Gories,
Suicide,
Danielle Patucci,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Kenny Larkin,
The Residents,
Franke,
Roger Hodgson,
Ronan,
The Fire Engines,
Magazine,
Ultravox,
cv313, cv313, cv313, cv313.
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.