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 Denmark and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe 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 London Community Gospel Choir to the disco 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 The Knickerbockers. All the underground hits.
All Pet Shop Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gabor Szabo 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a B.T. Express record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Bluetip,
The Grass Roots,
June of 44,
Joyce Sims,
The Fortunes,
8 Eyed Spy,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Pole,
Yazoo,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Crispian St. Peters,
Mad Mike,
Quadrant,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Derrick May,
Lower 48,
The Cure,
Country Teasers,
Kurtis Blow,
Gang Green,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Suburban Knight,
Johnny Clarke,
Magma,
Isaac Hayes,
June Days,
John Foxx,
Man Eating Sloth,
Juan Atkins,
Camouflage,
Blancmange,
ABC,
U.S. Maple,
Sound Behaviour,
Mantronix,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Thee Headcoats,
UT,
Index,
The Raincoats,
Anthony Braxton,
Joensuu 1685,
Liliput,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Bush Tetras,
Depeche Mode,
Simply Red,
Todd Rundgren,
Gabor Szabo,
Sex Pistols,
Jimmy McGriff,
Model 500,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Blackbyrds,
Tres Demented,
Jacob Miller,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Lyres,
Marcia Griffiths,
Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman.
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.