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 Vanuatu and from Shanghai.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 spring reverb 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 Gang of Four to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Gerry Rafferty. All the underground hits.
All Eve St. Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Moleskins 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pole record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Coltrane,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Peter and Kerry,
Public Image Ltd.,
Toni Rubio,
The Music Machine,
Television,
Ituana,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Victims,
Cecil Taylor,
Marmalade,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Eric B and Rakim,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Black Moon,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Angels of Light,
Nation of Ulysses,
Iggy Pop,
Nico,
Technova,
Echospace,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Tropical Tobacco,
Lakeside,
Average White Band,
KRS-One,
Groovy Waters,
Nils Olav,
Con Funk Shun,
Brand Nubian,
B.T. Express,
Warren Ellis,
Eddi Front,
Vladislav Delay,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Gang Gang Dance,
Pharoah Sanders,
Peter & Gordon,
Fat Boys,
Harry Pussy,
Visage,
Lightning Bolt,
Joensuu 1685,
Kas Product,
Nas,
The Fortunes,
Pussy Galore,
Clear Light,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Quadrant,
James White and The Blacks,
Can,
OOIOO,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Roger Hodgson,
John Cale,
Terry Callier,
Bobby Byrd,
Severed Heads,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson.
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.