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 Pakistan and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Ultravox to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine. All the underground hits.
All Ultimate Spinach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arcadia 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a CMW 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?
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Procol Harum,
Marc Almond,
Crime,
Godley & Creme,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Motions,
Khruangbin,
Alphaville,
Agitation Free,
The Real Kids,
Rites of Spring,
The Slits,
Tim Buckley,
Absolute Body Control,
The Beau Brummels,
Soft Cell,
Soulsonic Force,
The Black Dice,
The Neon Judgement,
These Immortal Souls,
Camouflage,
Roger Hodgson,
The Gladiators,
Quadrant,
Whodini,
Qualms,
Groovy Waters,
The Move,
The Seeds,
Nas,
Interpol,
Alice Coltrane,
Monks,
The Blues Magoos,
The Raincoats,
Jawbox,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
UT,
Quantec,
Crooked Eye,
Henry Cow,
Tropical Tobacco,
New Order,
Isaac Hayes,
Goldenarms,
The Leaves,
Siglo XX,
John Lydon,
Pylon,
Stetsasonic,
Mission of Burma,
Gerry Rafferty,
Gang Gang Dance,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Fad Gadget,
Accadde A,
Lakeside,
Arthur Verocai,
Bob Dylan,
Negative Approach,
Avey Tare,
Scion, Scion, Scion, Scion.
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.