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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Accra.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Amazonics to the grunge 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 Tropical Tobacco. All the underground hits.
All Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Drive Like Jehu 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Unwound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Intrusion,
Graham Central Station,
Rekid,
Maleditus Sound,
Glenn Branca,
Sugar Minott,
Desert Stars,
Jacob Miller,
Khruangbin,
The United States of America,
Stetsasonic,
Marc Almond,
MDC,
Lalo Schifrin,
Ponytail,
Deadbeat,
Sam Rivers,
Sly & The Family Stone,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Neon Judgement,
John Coltrane,
Public Enemy,
The Golliwogs,
Bush Tetras,
Pet Shop Boys,
Urselle,
Lou Reed,
Wolf Eyes,
X-101,
Terry Callier,
Ituana,
Rites of Spring,
The Evens,
Grauzone,
Arthur Verocai,
Accadde A,
Magma,
Q and Not U,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Skaos,
Y Pants,
Boredoms,
Lightning Bolt,
Cal Tjader,
Moebius,
Man Parrish,
Simply Red,
Silicon Teens,
ABC,
Quadrant,
Cluster,
the Swans,
The Cure,
Dual Sessions,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Last Poets,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Radiopuhelimet,
Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne.
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.