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 Philippines and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 güiro 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 Andrew Hill to the jazz 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 Ash Ra Tempel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neil Young & Crazy Horse record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeff Mills record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Echospace,
The Buckinghams,
The Move,
Amazonics,
MC5,
Scientists,
Little Man,
Black Bananas,
Scratch Acid,
The Cowsills,
Kerrie Biddell,
Marmalade,
Loose Ends,
The Index,
Altered Images,
The Music Machine,
Panda Bear,
Gong,
Rosa Yemen,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
David McCallum,
Lee Hazlewood,
the Soft Cell,
Ornette Coleman,
Quando Quango,
The Litter,
Howard Jones,
Blancmange,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Siglo XX,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Roxy Music,
Marine Girls,
Vladislav Delay,
Wire,
Urselle,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Roger Hodgson,
Outsiders,
The Red Krayola,
Minnie Riperton,
Drexciya,
In Retrospect,
Sonic Youth,
Talk Talk,
Black Pus,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Slick Rick,
Camouflage,
The Searchers,
The Real Kids,
Monolake,
Ken Boothe,
Angry Samoans,
Arcadia,
Eden Ahbez,
Tears for Fears,
Juan Atkins,
Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore.
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.