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 Eritrea and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 Joyce Sims to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu. All the underground hits.
All Red Lorry Yellow Lorry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soulsonic Force record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gichy Dan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soft Machine,
Brick,
Whodini,
A Certain Ratio,
DNA,
the Association,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Youth Brigade,
Index,
Jacob Miller,
Cymande,
Sun City Girls,
Theoretical Girls,
Ken Boothe,
The Angels of Light,
Quantec,
The Neon Judgement,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Fuzztones,
Lightning Bolt,
Pantytec,
Lakeside,
The Last Poets,
Dark Day,
Joe Smooth,
Angry Samoans,
the Bar-Kays,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Bluetip,
Pagans,
the Slits,
Stereo Dub,
Liliput,
The Dave Clark Five,
Joy Division,
Roy Ayers,
Barry Ungar,
Stockholm Monsters,
Laurel Aitken,
The Gories,
the Normal,
Pantaleimon,
Robert Hood,
Flamin' Groovies,
Severed Heads,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The American Breed,
D'Angelo,
Kas Product,
The Gladiators,
48th St. Collective,
The Golliwogs,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Bang On A Can,
Soulsonic Force,
Todd Rundgren,
Scan 7,
K-Klass,
T.S.O.L.,
Cameo, Cameo, Cameo, Cameo.
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.