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 Austria and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 spring reverb 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 Livin' Joy to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Panda Bear. All the underground hits.
All Lafayette Afro Rock Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Doobie Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Boredoms record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Cale,
Piero Umiliani,
Don Cherry,
Cybotron,
Supertramp,
X-101,
CMW,
PIL,
The Five Americans,
cv313,
Main Source,
Kenny Larkin,
Morten Harket,
The Index,
One Last Wish,
Crispy Ambulance,
Maleditus Sound,
Bang On A Can,
Suburban Knight,
Jeff Mills,
Faraquet,
Bush Tetras,
Deakin,
Minutemen,
The Doobie Brothers,
Barclay James Harvest,
Black Flag,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Buckinghams,
Loose Ends,
Nik Kershaw,
Fort Wilson Riot,
the Normal,
New York Dolls,
Organ,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Dave Clark Five,
Dennis Brown,
Absolute Body Control,
Outsiders,
Reuben Wilson,
X-102,
The Names,
Harry Pussy,
Henry Cow,
Trumans Water,
The Dirtbombs,
Archie Shepp,
Eve St. Jones,
Chris Corsano,
The Victims,
Cheater Slicks,
Quantec,
The Moody Blues,
Barrington Levy,
Dead Boys,
Soft Cell,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Marc Almond,
Steve Hackett,
Youth Brigade, Youth Brigade, Youth Brigade, Youth Brigade.
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.