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 South Sudan and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 harpsichord 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 Magma to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Kerrie Biddell. All the underground hits.
All Barry Ungar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Y Pants 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Los Fastidios record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Kayak,
Harry Pussy,
The Beau Brummels,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Pretty Things,
Scrapy,
Drive Like Jehu,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Eurythmics,
Saccharine Trust,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Rakim,
Absolute Body Control,
Cecil Taylor,
The Black Dice,
Joy Division,
Reagan Youth,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Fear,
Tomorrow,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Susan Cadogan,
The Martian,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The United States of America,
Skarface,
The Pop Group,
Throbbing Gristle,
Silicon Teens,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Heaven 17,
Jawbox,
Carl Craig,
H. Thieme,
Pierre Henry,
Crooked Eye,
the Association,
Bill Near,
Hoover,
Infiniti,
Ponytail,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Star Department,
Judy Mowatt,
X-102,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Sister Nancy,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Barry Ungar,
Youth Brigade,
Angry Samoans,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Buckinghams,
Wally Richardson,
The Smiths,
Chris & Cosey,
Can,
Groovy Waters,
The Gladiators,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Das Ding,
Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne.
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.