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 Chad and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 The Mummies to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Amon Düül II. All the underground hits.
All Rapeman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Anthony Braxton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sound Behaviour,
Letta Mbulu,
Rakim,
Arthur Verocai,
Mr. Review,
Reuben Wilson,
Whodini,
Alice Coltrane,
Guru Guru,
Tears for Fears,
Man Parrish,
the Normal,
Rotary Connection,
Television,
June Days,
Lightning Bolt,
T.S.O.L.,
Subhumans,
Gastr Del Sol,
Nation of Ulysses,
Dave Gahan,
Pierre Henry,
Wally Richardson,
The Seeds,
The Real Kids,
The Moody Blues,
Gang Green,
Alison Limerick,
Accadde A,
Das Ding,
Slave,
Flamin' Groovies,
Bobby Byrd,
Big Daddy Kane,
Rhythm & Sound,
Lungfish,
Trumans Water,
Delon & Dalcan,
Chris Corsano,
Suburban Knight,
Eve St. Jones,
The Electric Prunes,
The Durutti Column,
Ken Boothe,
FM Einheit,
Flipper,
John Holt,
the Sonics,
Drexciya,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Mantronix,
The Neon Judgement,
ABC,
The Mojo Men,
Surgeon,
Cymande,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Soft Machine,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks.
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.