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 Tunisia and from New York.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 harpsichord 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 Kango’s Stein Massive to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Arab on Radar. All the underground hits.
All Gerry Rafferty tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Girls At Our Best! record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fuzztones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Funkadelic,
Johnny Osbourne,
Arab on Radar,
Ludus,
Robert Hood,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Tommy Roe,
Crime,
U.S. Maple,
Hardrive,
Scion,
John Coltrane,
Rod Modell,
Robert Görl,
Drive Like Jehu,
Flipper,
Yazoo,
Mission of Burma,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Scott Walker,
Chris & Cosey,
Eurythmics,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Jeff Lynne,
Michelle Simonal,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
8 Eyed Spy,
kango's stein massive,
Delta 5,
Goldenarms,
The Neon Judgement,
Deepchord,
the Swans,
Connie Case,
Jacob Miller,
Tears for Fears,
Ultravox,
Lightning Bolt,
Danielle Patucci,
Y Pants,
Josef K,
Minutemen,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Adolescents,
Motorama,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Chrome,
Camouflage,
Don Cherry,
Frankie Knuckles,
Joe Smooth,
Lalann,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Amon Düül II,
Cal Tjader,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
John Holt,
The Busters,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Jesper Dahlback,
Theoretical Girls,
Henry Cow,
CMW, CMW, CMW, CMW.
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.