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 Rwanda and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Lille.
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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Suicide to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Mary Jane Girls. All the underground hits.
All DJ Style tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every F. McDonald record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gerry Rafferty record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cybotron,
Thee Headcoats,
The Skatalites,
Robert Wyatt,
Gerry Rafferty,
Television,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Index,
Sun Ra,
Jacques Brel,
Pylon,
Dark Day,
The Moleskins,
Slick Rick,
Arthur Verocai,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Amazonics,
Wire,
Tears for Fears,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Black Dice,
JFA,
H. Thieme,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Anthony Braxton,
Rosa Yemen,
Minutemen,
Malaria!,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Erasure,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Kool Moe Dee,
Chris Corsano,
The Buckinghams,
Grey Daturas,
June Days,
Quadrant,
The Dead C,
The United States of America,
Big Daddy Kane,
Crooked Eye,
Qualms,
Fad Gadget,
Kurtis Blow,
Matthew Bourne,
Isaac Hayes,
Simply Red,
Radio Birdman,
Eve St. Jones,
Depeche Mode,
Mission of Burma,
Tomorrow,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Cameo,
Blossom Toes,
Kerri Chandler,
Howard Jones,
Zapp,
The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes.
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.