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 Sierra Leone and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the organ 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 The United States of America to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Thompson Twins. All the underground hits.
All a-ha tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Detroit Cobras record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Buckinghams record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crooked Eye,
The Grass Roots,
Ten City,
Eden Ahbez,
Soul II Soul,
Drexciya,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Gabor Szabo,
Popol Vuh,
Silicon Teens,
Thee Headcoats,
T.S.O.L.,
Kaleidoscope,
New Order,
The Move,
Hardrive,
The Gun Club,
Matthew Halsall,
The Evens,
Juan Atkins,
Robert Görl,
Fear,
The Motions,
Alison Limerick,
The Human League,
The Vogues,
Tres Demented,
Bob Dylan,
Robert Hood,
Rekid,
Rosa Yemen,
Sex Pistols,
Wolf Eyes,
Boz Scaggs,
Gil Scott Heron,
Amazonics,
The Dave Clark Five,
In Retrospect,
Franke,
Unrelated Segments,
Joyce Sims,
Sun City Girls,
Y Pants,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Birthday Party,
Main Source,
Bill Wells,
Todd Rundgren,
Derrick May,
Terrestrial Tones,
Alice Coltrane,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Wings,
Parry Music,
Absolute Body Control,
The Dirtbombs,
Janne Schatter,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
John Holt,
John Foxx,
Traffic Nightmare,
Television,
Peter and Kerry,
Gastr Del Sol, Gastr Del Sol, Gastr Del Sol, Gastr Del Sol.
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.