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 United Kingdom and from Hong Kong.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Clear Light 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 Alphaville. All the underground hits.
All Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sister Nancy 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 guitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Star Department record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
F. McDonald,
Yazoo,
The Toasters,
Dawn Penn,
Byron Stingily,
The Neon Judgement,
Kevin Saunderson,
Jeru the Damaja,
Ituana,
Nation of Ulysses,
Prince Buster,
Grey Daturas,
Barclay James Harvest,
R.M.O.,
Q and Not U,
Spoonie Gee,
Sun Ra,
The Standells,
The Smoke,
Public Enemy,
The Gun Club,
Gastr Del Sol,
Skaos,
The New Christs,
Morten Harket,
Idris Muhammad,
X-Ray Spex,
Ultra Naté,
Arab on Radar,
Dual Sessions,
The Kinks,
John Coltrane,
Jimmy McGriff,
Liliput,
The Trojans,
Niagra,
Tears for Fears,
Dark Day,
Nico,
Quando Quango,
Model 500,
The Angels of Light,
Nirvana,
Country Teasers,
Mo-Dettes,
Frankie Knuckles,
Peter and Kerry,
Susan Cadogan,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Wire,
The Golliwogs,
Fela Kuti,
Flipper,
Amon Düül II,
Mantronix,
Moss Icon,
The Seeds,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Don Cherry,
Pagans,
Marshall Jefferson,
Essential Logic,
Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson.
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.