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 Mauritius and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Manila.
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 mellotron 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 Pantaleimon to the rap 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 Lightning Bolt. All the underground hits.
All Stereo Dub tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vainqueur record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marmalade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Au Pairs,
New York Dolls,
Nick Fraelich,
The Index,
Panda Bear,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Suicide,
Deadbeat,
Absolute Body Control,
Audionom,
Tears for Fears,
Peter and Kerry,
Anakelly,
Kerri Chandler,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Slits,
Liliput,
Pantytec,
Derrick Morgan,
Severed Heads,
Minutemen,
AZ,
Howard Jones,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
David Bowie,
Harry Pussy,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Alphaville,
Marvin Gaye,
The Evens,
Ultravox,
Jeff Lynne,
The Velvet Underground,
Camouflage,
James Chance & The Contortions,
H. Thieme,
Marshall Jefferson,
Funky Four + One,
Theoretical Girls,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Johnny Osbourne,
Blancmange,
Rites of Spring,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Blossom Toes,
One Last Wish,
The Techniques,
ABBA,
Roger Hodgson,
The Pretty Things,
Dennis Brown,
Jacob Miller,
Harpers Bizarre,
Supertramp,
Ronan,
Steve Hackett,
Talk Talk,
Dual Sessions,
Cluster,
Wally Richardson,
Roy Ayers,
The Dirtbombs,
Charles Mingus,
Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners.
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.