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 Italy and from Sao Paulo.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Drexciya to the funk 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 The Residents. All the underground hits.
All Mark Hollis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Letta Mbulu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sunsets and Hearts record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sparks,
Cluster,
Crispy Ambulance,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Swell Maps,
The Black Dice,
Motorama,
Ultimate Spinach,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Erykah Badu,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Godley & Creme,
Connie Case,
Essential Logic,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
New Age Steppers,
Theoretical Girls,
Flipper,
Piero Umiliani,
Porter Ricks,
Delta 5,
Colin Newman,
Cal Tjader,
Young Marble Giants,
Ultra Naté,
Fatback Band,
Cymande,
Darondo,
Average White Band,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Gladiators,
48th St. Collective,
Lou Reed,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
DJ Sneak,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Funkadelic,
Boz Scaggs,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
David Axelrod,
Amon Düül II,
Juan Atkins,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Neu!,
Ronnie Foster,
Gichy Dan,
Alphaville,
Lightning Bolt,
Avey Tare,
Matthew Bourne,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Minor Threat,
Byron Stingily,
Lungfish,
Bang On A Can,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Moody Blues,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Sällskapet,
Liliput,
The Toasters,
Joey Negro,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Hardrive, Hardrive, Hardrive, Hardrive.
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.