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 Slovakia and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
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 Hot Snakes to the grunge 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 One Last Wish. All the underground hits.
All The Smiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Matthew Bourne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Michelle Simonal record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amon Düül,
Freddie Wadling,
Desert Stars,
the Association,
Tears for Fears,
The Human League,
Amon Düül II,
Subhumans,
Lyres,
T. Rex,
Infiniti,
Maleditus Sound,
The Move,
Tropical Tobacco,
Joey Negro,
Howard Jones,
Pulsallama,
Thee Headcoats,
Black Sheep,
Rapeman,
Bootsy Collins,
Gang Green,
Josef K,
Rotary Connection,
Darondo,
Talk Talk,
New Age Steppers,
Derrick May,
Excepter,
Clear Light,
Country Joe & The Fish,
the Germs,
Oneida,
Los Fastidios,
The Searchers,
Charles Mingus,
Pussy Galore,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Ohio Players,
Kenny Larkin,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Names,
X-102,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Misunderstood,
Scan 7,
Fad Gadget,
The Moody Blues,
The Electric Prunes,
Faraquet,
Skriet,
Supertramp,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Barry Ungar,
Idris Muhammad,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Nation of Ulysses,
Magma,
Funky Four + One,
Bob Dylan,
Andrew Hill,
Royal Trux,
the Normal, the Normal, the Normal, the Normal.
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.