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 Ghana and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 linndrum 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 Steve Hackett to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Donny Hathaway. All the underground hits.
All The Smoke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vladislav Delay record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cluster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Interpol,
the Bar-Kays,
Rakim,
Al Stewart,
DJ Style,
The Real Kids,
Barbara Tucker,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Blues Magoos,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Make Up,
James White and The Blacks,
Joey Negro,
Wasted Youth,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Red Krayola,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Hoover,
F. McDonald,
Accadde A,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Barclay James Harvest,
Q65,
The Cowsills,
The Kinks,
Dave Gahan,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The New Christs,
The Raincoats,
Eden Ahbez,
Cluster,
Lakeside,
Bobby Womack,
Arab on Radar,
New Age Steppers,
Maurizio,
Jacques Brel,
Kenny Larkin,
Tubeway Army,
Gerry Rafferty,
Tomorrow,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Doobie Brothers,
Boz Scaggs,
Robert Wyatt,
Lungfish,
Severed Heads,
Reuben Wilson,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
the Soft Cell,
The Cure,
Moss Icon,
Henry Cow,
Youth Brigade,
The Buckinghams,
The Fortunes,
Soulsonic Force,
Sonic Youth,
Nik Kershaw,
Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan.
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.