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 Sudan and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Happenings to the rock 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 This Heat. All the underground hits.
All The Divine Comedy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Bowie record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed & John Cale record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispian St. Peters,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Shuggie Otis,
Dorothy Ashby,
Soul Sonic Force,
Terry Callier,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Jeru the Damaja,
Black Flag,
Lalann,
Half Japanese,
Tommy Roe,
Make Up,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Gerry Rafferty,
Ossler,
Donald Byrd,
Public Enemy,
Spandau Ballet,
Bobby Sherman,
Intrusion,
Reagan Youth,
New York Dolls,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Jeff Lynne,
Minor Threat,
Derrick Morgan,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Motorama,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Barrington Levy,
Amon Düül,
Roger Hodgson,
X-101,
Alice Coltrane,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
OOIOO,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Organ,
David Bowie,
The Music Machine,
Swell Maps,
Duran Duran,
U.S. Maple,
Mandrill,
Grauzone,
Toni Rubio,
Bizarre Inc.,
Pharoah Sanders,
June Days,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Terrestrial Tones,
Khruangbin,
Gregory Isaacs,
The J.B.'s,
Peter & Gordon,
Howard Jones,
One Last Wish,
Talk Talk,
8 Eyed Spy,
Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads.
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.