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 China and from Milan.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Susan Cadogan to the disco 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 Robert Hood. All the underground hits.
All Bush Tetras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moby Grape record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dawn Penn record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Byron Stingily,
Lakeside,
Electric Prunes,
Sex Pistols,
Supertramp,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Last Poets,
The Fire Engines,
Mark Hollis,
Joe Smooth,
Zero Boys,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Beau Brummels,
Hasil Adkins,
Ossler,
The Angels of Light,
Fear,
David Axelrod,
Khruangbin,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Gap Band,
Grey Daturas,
Anakelly,
Mad Mike,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Zapp,
Au Pairs,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Essential Logic,
Johnny Clarke,
Jeru the Damaja,
Al Stewart,
John Foxx,
Dawn Penn,
The Fuzztones,
Robert Hood,
Reuben Wilson,
Boz Scaggs,
Clear Light,
Silicon Teens,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Derrick May,
Tres Demented,
Ronan,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Whodini,
Pole,
Slick Rick,
Lindisfarne,
Kayak,
The Fugs,
Chris & Cosey,
Negative Approach,
Fatback Band,
The Golliwogs,
The Offenders,
The Busters,
Joyce Sims,
48th St. Collective,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Masters at Work,
Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade.
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.