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 Israel and from Tehran.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs 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 The Pop Group. All the underground hits.
All Thompson Twins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bronski Beat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Derrick May record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Desert Stars,
The Smiths,
Pylon,
Eve St. Jones,
Khruangbin,
Tomorrow,
Nik Kershaw,
Ohio Players,
Shoche,
Sugar Minott,
Erasure,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Minutemen,
Hashim,
Eddi Front,
Eric Copeland,
The Raincoats,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Martian,
Harpers Bizarre,
Cecil Taylor,
Saccharine Trust,
Morten Harket,
New Order,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Rhythm & Sound,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Panda Bear,
Jeru the Damaja,
Leonard Cohen,
Cal Tjader,
The Motions,
The Fire Engines,
Motorama,
The Names,
Cluster,
The Sound,
Gabor Szabo,
Metal Thangz,
Q65,
the Bar-Kays,
Ossler,
X-102,
R.M.O.,
PIL,
Sound Behaviour,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Urselle,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Sam Rivers,
Eden Ahbez,
Gang Gang Dance,
Cheater Slicks,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Bootsy Collins,
Nico,
Tres Demented,
The Count Five,
Donald Byrd,
Supertramp,
Rufus Thomas,
The Trojans,
Minnie Riperton,
FM Einheit, FM Einheit, FM Einheit, FM Einheit.
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.