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 Mexico and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Five Americans to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Blossom Toes. All the underground hits.
All Toni Rubio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Model 500 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Five Americans,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Oneida,
Wings,
Marmalade,
Amazonics,
Terrestrial Tones,
Letta Mbulu,
Suburban Knight,
Grauzone,
The Walker Brothers,
The Slackers,
Monolake,
The Golliwogs,
Kerri Chandler,
8 Eyed Spy,
Mr. Review,
Funky Four + One,
Erykah Badu,
Delta 5,
Brand Nubian,
Zapp,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Dirtbombs,
Can,
The Beau Brummels,
Joey Negro,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Dual Sessions,
The New Christs,
Joensuu 1685,
Ohio Players,
Althea and Donna,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Fugs,
Index,
The Cramps,
The Durutti Column,
Gang Gang Dance,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Aswad,
Maleditus Sound,
The Offenders,
Soul Sonic Force,
Gang Starr,
D'Angelo,
Magazine,
Grey Daturas,
Throbbing Gristle,
Basic Channel,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Godley & Creme,
This Heat,
Glambeats Corp.,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Buckinghams,
Harmonia,
Marvin Gaye,
Icehouse,
the Human League,
Scion,
R.M.O.,
Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy.
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.