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 Niger and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 marimba 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 The Music Machine to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All Marine Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Byrd record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 an oboe and a guitar 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 guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Funkadelic,
Darondo,
Saccharine Trust,
Cymande,
Mo-Dettes,
Cameo,
Crime,
Hot Snakes,
John Coltrane,
Maurizio,
Desert Stars,
Gang Starr,
Masters at Work,
The Human League,
Scrapy,
Q and Not U,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Tommy Roe,
Rod Modell,
Pantytec,
Spoonie Gee,
Outsiders,
Grey Daturas,
John Foxx,
Sister Nancy,
The Fortunes,
Hoover,
Jacob Miller,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Sugar Minott,
Godley & Creme,
Japan,
Babytalk,
Royal Trux,
Stetsasonic,
Boz Scaggs,
Gang Gang Dance,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Albert Ayler,
Sun Ra,
Bush Tetras,
Sun City Girls,
Juan Atkins,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Monolake,
Jacques Brel,
The Cure,
Johnny Osbourne,
Barclay James Harvest,
Black Flag,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Cal Tjader,
The Star Department,
Connie Case,
Zapp,
Flipper,
Lalo Schifrin,
Crash Course in Science,
Lou Christie,
Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre.
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.