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 Guyana and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 harpsichord 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 Martian to the electroclash 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 Piero Umiliani. All the underground hits.
All Lizzy Mercier Descloux tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fugazi 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magazine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Ten City,
Sonic Youth,
Metal Thangz,
Khruangbin,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Pharoah Sanders,
Radiopuhelimet,
a-ha,
Brand Nubian,
Jeff Mills,
Desert Stars,
Glambeats Corp.,
These Immortal Souls,
Roxette,
Massinfluence,
The Misunderstood,
Moby Grape,
Moebius,
Dead Boys,
The Cure,
Ornette Coleman,
Aural Exciters,
Kool Moe Dee,
Cybotron,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Gong,
Todd Terry,
Warren Ellis,
Graham Central Station,
The Cramps,
Tears for Fears,
Q and Not U,
Fluxion,
Tommy Roe,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Yaz,
Roy Ayers,
Amon Düül,
The Angels of Light,
Wally Richardson,
The Monochrome Set,
Fatback Band,
Ituana,
Livin' Joy,
Aloha Tigers,
Gang Green,
Pere Ubu,
Jeff Lynne,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Yusef Lateef,
Don Cherry,
The Pretty Things,
Amazonics,
Half Japanese,
Byron Stingily,
The Offenders,
The Sound,
Avey Tare,
Terrestrial Tones,
X-101, X-101, X-101, X-101.
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.