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 Serbia and from Manila.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Rekid. All the underground hits.
All The Mighty Diamonds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fifty Foot Hose 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brothers Johnson,
The Pretty Things,
Kas Product,
Kerri Chandler,
Electric Prunes,
Carl Craig,
the Fania All-Stars,
Gichy Dan,
Khruangbin,
The Black Dice,
The Fuzztones,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Donald Byrd,
Goldenarms,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Marc Almond,
The Standells,
The Angels of Light,
La Düsseldorf,
Faust,
Terry Callier,
Juan Atkins,
Audionom,
Chris & Cosey,
The Blackbyrds,
Pantytec,
Mars,
Sarah Menescal,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Tremeloes,
Rites of Spring,
Hashim,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Radiohead,
Frankie Knuckles,
Vladislav Delay,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Man Eating Sloth,
a-ha,
Bang On A Can,
Monks,
Metal Thangz,
Lyres,
The Fall,
Sparks,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Youth Brigade,
Spoonie Gee,
Be Bop Deluxe,
FM Einheit,
The Gun Club,
Susan Cadogan,
Brick,
Gabor Szabo,
Babytalk,
Motorama,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Japan,
These Immortal Souls,
Lalann,
JFA,
Lou Reed, Lou Reed, Lou Reed, Lou Reed.
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.