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 Italy and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Cybotron. All the underground hits.
All Cal Tjader tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angry Samoans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neil Young record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultimate Spinach,
Rapeman,
Carl Craig,
The Index,
Donald Byrd,
OOIOO,
Andrew Hill,
The Grass Roots,
Quando Quango,
Essential Logic,
Wally Richardson,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Guru Guru,
Main Source,
Colin Newman,
Sun City Girls,
Pharoah Sanders,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Todd Terry,
the Normal,
Khruangbin,
Tears for Fears,
Talk Talk,
Saccharine Trust,
Simply Red,
Deepchord,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Skaos,
Reuben Wilson,
The Count Five,
Ludus,
Barry Ungar,
Sugar Minott,
Rhythm & Sound,
Average White Band,
Buzzcocks,
Newcleus,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Derrick Morgan,
Brand Nubian,
Minor Threat,
Q and Not U,
Technova,
Bill Near,
Soulsonic Force,
Drexciya,
UT,
Harmonia,
Yazoo,
Gerry Rafferty,
Nik Kershaw,
Aloha Tigers,
Soft Machine,
ABBA,
Radiohead,
Chrome,
Arthur Verocai,
Thompson Twins,
The Gap Band,
Depeche Mode,
Freddie Wadling,
Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange.
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.