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 Micronesia and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Half Japanese to the grime 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 The Young Rascals. All the underground hits.
All Tim Buckley tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ornette Coleman 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Au Pairs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Young Rascals,
Funky Four + One,
Little Man,
Aloha Tigers,
Half Japanese,
the Swans,
F. McDonald,
Kurtis Blow,
Ponytail,
Parry Music,
Minny Pops,
The Gories,
Robert Wyatt,
Matthew Bourne,
The Kinks,
Rosa Yemen,
Talk Talk,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Blancmange,
Arab on Radar,
The Music Machine,
Metal Thangz,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Urselle,
Girls At Our Best!,
a-ha,
Wasted Youth,
Minor Threat,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Fear,
Arcadia,
Siglo XX,
Flash Fearless,
Gabor Szabo,
cv313,
Q65,
Magma,
A Certain Ratio,
Connie Case,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Slick Rick,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Minnie Riperton,
Eden Ahbez,
Wings,
The Standells,
The Zeros,
Faraquet,
Rod Modell,
Outsiders,
Sällskapet,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Index,
Chrome,
Radiohead,
The Mummies,
Surgeon,
Freddie Wadling,
Marmalade,
The Doors, The Doors, The Doors, The Doors.
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.