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 Uzbekistan and from Sao Paulo.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Yellowson to the grime 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 Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon. All the underground hits.
All Gastr Del Sol tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rotary Connection record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Althea and Donna record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arab on Radar,
Eddi Front,
Rod Modell,
Roxette,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Sonics,
L. Decosne,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Smoke,
The Human League,
Slick Rick,
U.S. Maple,
Bronski Beat,
Eve St. Jones,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Sound,
Cybotron,
Deadbeat,
Lakeside,
The Birthday Party,
X-Ray Spex,
Gichy Dan,
T. Rex,
F. McDonald,
The Happenings,
Howard Jones,
The Offenders,
Josef K,
The Young Rascals,
David McCallum,
Monks,
Todd Rundgren,
Blake Baxter,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Seeds,
Amon Düül II,
Camouflage,
ABC,
X-102,
The Flesh Eaters,
Quantec,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Grauzone,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Trojans,
The Slits,
The Zeros,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Hot Snakes,
Ronnie Foster,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Bob Dylan,
Crooked Eye,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Bush Tetras,
Clear Light,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Scrapy,
Au Pairs,
Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield.
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.