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 Tonga and from Bremen.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 Godley & Creme to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Graham Central Station. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & John Cale tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Todd Terry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pere Ubu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nico,
Donny Hathaway,
Franke,
Sam Rivers,
Moss Icon,
The American Breed,
Marshall Jefferson,
John Lydon,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Roger Hodgson,
The Misunderstood,
Amon Düül,
the Sonics,
Radio Birdman,
Camouflage,
The J.B.'s,
Skriet,
Alphaville,
Technova,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Juan Atkins,
Masters at Work,
Gang Green,
Skaos,
Flash Fearless,
Nirvana,
China Crisis,
Marine Girls,
Schoolly D,
The Slackers,
Yazoo,
Pussy Galore,
Robert Görl,
James White and The Blacks,
Kevin Saunderson,
MDC,
Kurtis Blow,
The Victims,
Accadde A,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Fluxion,
Yellowson,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Spandau Ballet,
Ultimate Spinach,
Jacob Miller,
The Names,
Janne Schatter,
Minny Pops,
Matthew Halsall,
Ponytail,
David Bowie,
Letta Mbulu,
Lalann,
PIL,
John Holt,
Tears for Fears,
Mantronix,
Chrome, Chrome, Chrome, Chrome.
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.