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 Palau and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Gian Franco Pienzio to the rock 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 Stetsasonic. All the underground hits.
All the Normal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Silicon Teens record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Doobie Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Morten Harket,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Knickerbockers,
the Human League,
Motorama,
Amon Düül II,
Stiv Bators,
Newcleus,
Gang of Four,
Drive Like Jehu,
Interpol,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Porter Ricks,
The Smiths,
Chrome,
Fela Kuti,
Crispy Ambulance,
Bill Near,
Deepchord,
Khruangbin,
Tim Buckley,
Lyres,
Lungfish,
Chris & Cosey,
Ten City,
The Fuzztones,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Masters at Work,
The Saints,
The Fall,
Ponytail,
Eddi Front,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Leaves,
One Last Wish,
Delon & Dalcan,
Metal Thangz,
X-102,
Toni Rubio,
Gerry Rafferty,
Slick Rick,
Sam Rivers,
Black Moon,
Joyce Sims,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Johnny Osbourne,
the Association,
Gong,
Brick,
Pantaleimon,
Y Pants,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Magazine,
Jawbox,
The Music Machine,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Anakelly,
Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis.
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.