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 St Lucia and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Ornette Coleman to the punk 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 Pussy Galore. All the underground hits.
All Wings tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Index record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Barracudas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T. Rex,
Duran Duran,
Underground Resistance,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Bobby Sherman,
Blake Baxter,
Fear,
Mars,
Kerrie Biddell,
Maurizio,
Alison Limerick,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
EPMD,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Cecil Taylor,
Colin Newman,
Rapeman,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Evens,
Wolf Eyes,
Stockholm Monsters,
Magma,
Aloha Tigers,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Boredoms,
Masters at Work,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Drive Like Jehu,
Khruangbin,
Nico,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Cramps,
Amon Düül,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Dead C,
Minny Pops,
Wasted Youth,
Gichy Dan,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Thee Headcoats,
Easy Going,
Nick Fraelich,
Aural Exciters,
The Grass Roots,
Eric Dolphy,
Idris Muhammad,
Fugazi,
Deadbeat,
Iggy Pop,
Essential Logic,
the Association,
Bill Wells,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Sandy B,
The Victims,
The J.B.'s,
Jacob Miller,
Lebanon Hanover,
Marine Girls,
Moebius,
The Fuzztones,
Zapp,
Au Pairs,
Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day.
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.