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 Slovenia and from Houston.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 Holger Czukay 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 Lalann to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Guru Guru. All the underground hits.
All Sonny Sharrock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Livin' Joy 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radiohead record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scott Walker,
Gang Starr,
Danielle Patucci,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Faust,
Silicon Teens,
The American Breed,
Rakim,
Rosa Yemen,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Joyce Sims,
Rites of Spring,
Byron Stingily,
Bluetip,
Surgeon,
Amazonics,
Grey Daturas,
Joe Smooth,
John Coltrane,
Johnny Osbourne,
Barclay James Harvest,
Black Moon,
Deepchord,
Slick Rick,
Q and Not U,
Lou Reed,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Glambeats Corp.,
Brand Nubian,
Drexciya,
Agitation Free,
Harry Pussy,
Carl Craig,
Gerry Rafferty,
Sparks,
The Saints,
The Cowsills,
Visage,
Young Marble Giants,
UT,
Pagans,
Cybotron,
The Litter,
Terry Callier,
The Motions,
X-Ray Spex,
Albert Ayler,
Sixth Finger,
Ohio Players,
The Human League,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Arcadia,
B.T. Express,
The Dead C,
The Blackbyrds,
Chris & Cosey,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Cure,
The Star Department,
Cheater Slicks,
The New Christs,
Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish.
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.