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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the guitar 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 Electric Prunes 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 Sällskapet. All the underground hits.
All The Motions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Electric Light Orchestra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moby Grape record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lee Hazlewood,
Suicide,
Stockholm Monsters,
Make Up,
Todd Terry,
Tomorrow,
cv313,
The Martian,
Ice-T,
Bang On A Can,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Erasure,
Cymande,
The Misunderstood,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Tremeloes,
Eric Dolphy,
Steve Hackett,
Monolake,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Fluxion,
The Fortunes,
Junior Murvin,
Robert Hood,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Qualms,
Althea and Donna,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Bobby Sherman,
Schoolly D,
The Dead C,
Radiopuhelimet,
Bad Manners,
Dead Boys,
The Cure,
Neil Young,
H. Thieme,
Kerrie Biddell,
Rites of Spring,
Lou Christie,
Suburban Knight,
Das Ding,
Wolf Eyes,
Amon Düül,
Brass Construction,
8 Eyed Spy,
Depeche Mode,
Skaos,
JFA,
Scrapy,
Robert Wyatt,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Cybotron,
Sparks,
Unwound,
Accadde A,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Gang Starr,
Icehouse,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Ludus,
Parry Music,
the Association, the Association, the Association, the Association.
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.