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 Australia and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Copenhagen.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the oboe 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 Stereo Dub to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Dark Day. All the underground hits.
All Rahsaan Roland Kirk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Hutcherson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sad Lovers and Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sister Nancy,
Chrome,
The Invisible,
Black Moon,
The Evens,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Techniques,
Bill Wells,
Gabor Szabo,
Barbara Tucker,
Dorothy Ashby,
Sandy B,
FM Einheit,
Angry Samoans,
Crispy Ambulance,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Joyce Sims,
Connie Case,
Juan Atkins,
Scan 7,
The Divine Comedy,
Lindisfarne,
Dennis Brown,
Arab on Radar,
The Monks,
Television Personalities,
Kayak,
Boogie Down Productions,
Albert Ayler,
Scientists,
The Dave Clark Five,
Rod Modell,
The Cowsills,
Public Enemy,
Donald Byrd,
Popol Vuh,
Deadbeat,
Pierre Henry,
Chris & Cosey,
Porter Ricks,
Kool Moe Dee,
Letta Mbulu,
Ten City,
The Doors,
Amon Düül,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Laurel Aitken,
Pet Shop Boys,
Toni Rubio,
Subhumans,
Desert Stars,
Rekid,
the Normal,
Bobby Byrd,
Isaac Hayes,
Soul II Soul,
The Durutti Column,
Grandmaster Flash,
Joe Smooth,
Procol Harum,
The Sound, The Sound, The Sound, The Sound.
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.