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 Australia and from Seoul.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 United States of America to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Eddi Front. All the underground hits.
All Niagra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Organ record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 clarinet and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Remains record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The J.B.'s,
Fluxion,
Maurizio,
The Residents,
Roxette,
Arab on Radar,
Ossler,
Alice Coltrane,
Pussy Galore,
Frankie Knuckles,
Wings,
Scientists,
Magma,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Pop Group,
The Sound,
Mr. Review,
The Seeds,
ABC,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Aloha Tigers,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Sonic Youth,
Barclay James Harvest,
Jesper Dahlback,
These Immortal Souls,
The Real Kids,
Traffic Nightmare,
Ultravox,
June of 44,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Swell Maps,
Minny Pops,
Babytalk,
Juan Atkins,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Barry Ungar,
The Barracudas,
Brass Construction,
Inner City,
Rosa Yemen,
Outsiders,
Motorama,
Parry Music,
Neil Young,
Quadrant,
Cal Tjader,
The Mojo Men,
Masters at Work,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Can,
The Detroit Cobras,
Cecil Taylor,
Radiopuhelimet,
Eden Ahbez,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Johnny Osbourne,
Grauzone,
The Music Machine,
Boogie Down Productions,
Glambeats Corp.,
Harpers Bizarre,
Sight & Sound,
Mars, Mars, Mars, Mars.
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.