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 Oman and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 Terrestrial Tones 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 Ohio Players. All the underground hits.
All Kerri Chandler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Neon Judgement 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dead C record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Colin Newman,
Don Cherry,
Section 25,
Godley & Creme,
Glambeats Corp.,
Prince Buster,
Mark Hollis,
Little Man,
World's Most,
Cal Tjader,
The Martian,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Oblivians,
Barbara Tucker,
Quadrant,
Cheater Slicks,
Rakim,
Marshall Jefferson,
Jacob Miller,
Mo-Dettes,
The Residents,
Jeff Lynne,
X-101,
Livin' Joy,
The New Christs,
Flash Fearless,
Ash Ra Tempel,
ABC,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Carl Craig,
The Mojo Men,
Patti Smith,
10cc,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Pretty Things,
The Dead C,
Bang On A Can,
Gong,
Stiv Bators,
Delon & Dalcan,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Urselle,
The Motions,
The Raincoats,
Interpol,
Aloha Tigers,
Mad Mike,
Goldenarms,
Chrome,
Juan Atkins,
Gil Scott Heron,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Glenn Branca,
Black Flag,
Kaleidoscope,
Roy Ayers,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Blues Magoos,
Rotary Connection,
K-Klass,
Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté.
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.