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 Djibouti and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 mellotron 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 Marshall Jefferson to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Archie Shepp. All the underground hits.
All Ultramagnetic MC's tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Hill 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Trumans Water,
John Cale,
48th St. Collective,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Skarface,
The Velvet Underground,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Massinfluence,
Siglo XX,
The Happenings,
Josef K,
Harry Pussy,
the Association,
Arthur Verocai,
Cybotron,
Thompson Twins,
Fear,
Yazoo,
The Gap Band,
The Doobie Brothers,
Jerry's Kids,
Theoretical Girls,
Franke,
The Slackers,
Jandek,
Radiopuhelimet,
Andrew Hill,
Colin Newman,
Jacob Miller,
The Five Americans,
Pylon,
Clear Light,
E-Dancer,
Icehouse,
Eden Ahbez,
James White and The Blacks,
Vainqueur,
The Music Machine,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Magma,
Matthew Bourne,
Dorothy Ashby,
Jesper Dahlback,
Marcia Griffiths,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Tomorrow,
X-Ray Spex,
Interpol,
Tommy Roe,
Qualms,
Drive Like Jehu,
Pagans,
La Düsseldorf,
The Durutti Column,
Lebanon Hanover,
Zapp,
8 Eyed Spy,
Nation of Ulysses,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Todd Rundgren,
Television,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes.
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.