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 Ecuador and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 Spokane and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 theremin 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 The Vogues to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Lyres. All the underground hits.
All Oppenheimer Analysis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Offenders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pantaleimon,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Fugs,
Radio Birdman,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Black Dice,
Camouflage,
Sonic Youth,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Khruangbin,
The Moody Blues,
Lakeside,
Jeff Lynne,
Cybotron,
Theoretical Girls,
New Age Steppers,
Quando Quango,
Fifty Foot Hose,
the Germs,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Loose Ends,
UT,
Wire,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Skatalites,
Roxy Music,
Fluxion,
Darondo,
kango's stein massive,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Slits,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Wasted Youth,
Anthony Braxton,
cv313,
Joe Smooth,
Con Funk Shun,
Essential Logic,
Harmonia,
DJ Style,
Dave Gahan,
Black Pus,
Yellowson,
Charles Mingus,
Prince Buster,
Minny Pops,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Fire Engines,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
B.T. Express,
Aural Exciters,
Robert Wyatt,
Max Romeo,
Connie Case,
Tommy Roe,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Ten City,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Drive Like Jehu,
Crispian St. Peters,
U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple.
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.