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 Belarus and from Winnipeg.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 L. Decosne to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Altered Images. All the underground hits.
All Erykah Badu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bauhaus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Drexciya record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ten City,
Crooked Eye,
Rod Modell,
EPMD,
Marcia Griffiths,
Minutemen,
The Motions,
Sällskapet,
Henry Cow,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Cheater Slicks,
8 Eyed Spy,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Girls At Our Best!,
Andrew Hill,
Flash Fearless,
Charles Mingus,
Terry Callier,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Depeche Mode,
Avey Tare,
New Age Steppers,
Eric Copeland,
Rites of Spring,
Delta 5,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
LL Cool J,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
China Crisis,
John Cale,
James White and The Blacks,
Magazine,
Connie Case,
Hardrive,
cv313,
Aswad,
Prince Buster,
Second Layer,
48th St. Collective,
David Axelrod,
Crash Course in Science,
Bobby Byrd,
The Toasters,
Colin Newman,
DNA,
The Raincoats,
Lalann,
Television,
Main Source,
In Retrospect,
The Zeros,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Bill Near,
Gong,
Scrapy,
June of 44,
Agent Orange,
La Düsseldorf,
Spandau Ballet,
U.S. Maple,
Goldenarms,
The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party.
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.