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 Eritrea and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 marimba 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 Brand Nubian to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Gichy Dan. All the underground hits.
All Blossom Toes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Neon Judgement 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a PIL record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terry Callier,
The Move,
Mad Mike,
Khruangbin,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Goldenarms,
Pharoah Sanders,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Yaz,
Bauhaus,
Supertramp,
Adolescents,
The Real Kids,
Surgeon,
Jawbox,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Stereo Dub,
Isaac Hayes,
Toni Rubio,
The Kinks,
Metal Thangz,
Tears for Fears,
ABBA,
The Dave Clark Five,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Saints,
Marine Girls,
Sarah Menescal,
Pantaleimon,
Ultravox,
Banda Bassotti,
Joyce Sims,
Iggy Pop,
Dorothy Ashby,
Suburban Knight,
Shoche,
Yusef Lateef,
Qualms,
The Offenders,
Saccharine Trust,
Masters at Work,
Ohio Players,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
the Slits,
Q and Not U,
The Moody Blues,
Soulsonic Force,
H. Thieme,
The Doobie Brothers,
Funkadelic,
the Human League,
Sällskapet,
Easy Going,
Reagan Youth,
Nas,
Pierre Henry,
The Monochrome Set,
The Alarm Clocks,
Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science.
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.