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 Fiji and from Hong Kong.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson to the rap 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 Aural Exciters. All the underground hits.
All Girls At Our Best! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Altered Images 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gastr Del Sol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cure,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Zeros,
Alton Ellis,
The Invisible,
Jandek,
The Gladiators,
Barry Ungar,
the Sonics,
Interpol,
James White and The Blacks,
The Young Rascals,
Marvin Gaye,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Metal Thangz,
Marc Almond,
Black Flag,
The Misunderstood,
Yazoo,
MC5,
The Fuzztones,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Bush Tetras,
Lyres,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Public Image Ltd.,
DNA,
KRS-One,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Ultra Naté,
Minnie Riperton,
Sam Rivers,
Pulsallama,
Roxy Music,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Faust,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Mark Hollis,
Skarface,
the Association,
The Buckinghams,
Brothers Johnson,
The Saints,
Gabor Szabo,
John Holt,
Prince Buster,
Althea and Donna,
Echospace,
Procol Harum,
Andrew Hill,
The Golliwogs,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Albert Ayler,
Donald Byrd,
Little Man,
June of 44,
Suburban Knight,
Mandrill,
Loose Ends, Loose Ends, Loose Ends, Loose Ends.
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.