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 Micronesia and from Copenhagen.
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 Accra and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 marimba 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 Mad Mike to the electroclash 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 Rufus Thomas. All the underground hits.
All Colin Newman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every It's A Beautiful Day record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Christie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Das Ding,
Ossler,
World's Most,
John Holt,
James White and The Blacks,
Cheater Slicks,
Heaven 17,
Altered Images,
Rites of Spring,
The Buckinghams,
Gregory Isaacs,
Skriet,
Warsaw,
Agitation Free,
Quadrant,
Monks,
The Flesh Eaters,
Gichy Dan,
Pantytec,
Kurtis Blow,
Isaac Hayes,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Tim Buckley,
Pet Shop Boys,
Brand Nubian,
This Heat,
Amon Düül II,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
R.M.O.,
Intrusion,
The Neon Judgement,
Frankie Knuckles,
Jacob Miller,
The Misunderstood,
Negative Approach,
Talk Talk,
Scan 7,
Aaron Thompson,
Josef K,
OOIOO,
The Seeds,
Jandek,
Scion,
Bad Manners,
Hasil Adkins,
Scott Walker,
the Bar-Kays,
The Index,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
48th St. Collective,
Sparks,
Maleditus Sound,
Yusef Lateef,
The Five Americans,
Boogie Down Productions,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Soulsonic Force,
The Evens,
Bush Tetras,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Fortunes,
Sugar Minott,
Fad Gadget,
Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat.
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.