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 Laos and from Stockholm.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Lyon.
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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Magma to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx. All the underground hits.
All Barclay James Harvest tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mo-Dettes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 mellotron and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Kinks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cameo,
A Certain Ratio,
Junior Murvin,
Sexual Harrassment,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Theoretical Girls,
Man Eating Sloth,
Black Pus,
Barrington Levy,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Magma,
Motorama,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Hasil Adkins,
Dorothy Ashby,
Dead Boys,
Flipper,
AZ,
Symarip,
the Bar-Kays,
Minor Threat,
Nik Kershaw,
Josef K,
The Gun Club,
Wolf Eyes,
Depeche Mode,
Icehouse,
Chris Corsano,
Little Man,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Half Japanese,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Eden Ahbez,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Moody Blues,
Joey Negro,
Marc Almond,
Lakeside,
The Evens,
Funky Four + One,
Trumans Water,
New Age Steppers,
Byron Stingily,
The Leaves,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Dead C,
In Retrospect,
Cymande,
Sun City Girls,
Section 25,
Susan Cadogan,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Goldenarms,
Model 500,
X-102,
FM Einheit,
Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill.
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.