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 Italy and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Matthew Halsall to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Litter. All the underground hits.
All Mary Jane Girls 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 funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Darondo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Johnny Osbourne,
Section 25,
Angry Samoans,
Magma,
Ultra Naté,
The Stooges,
The Cowsills,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Lee Hazlewood,
Tim Buckley,
The Modern Lovers,
Gregory Isaacs,
Altered Images,
The Divine Comedy,
Stiv Bators,
48th St. Collective,
Cymande,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Adolescents,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Beau Brummels,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Dead C,
The Buckinghams,
Reagan Youth,
Cecil Taylor,
the Normal,
Q65,
Pet Shop Boys,
Khruangbin,
Gichy Dan,
Soft Machine,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Scratch Acid,
Man Parrish,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Alton Ellis,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Andrew Hill,
Vainqueur,
David McCallum,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Sonics,
Sonny Sharrock,
Jimmy McGriff,
Charles Mingus,
The Pretty Things,
Funky Four + One,
Drive Like Jehu,
June of 44,
Von Mondo,
Josef K,
Bootsy Collins,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Alarm Clocks,
New Order,
Groovy Waters,
Stereo Dub,
Index,
June Days,
Janne Schatter,
H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme.
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.