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 Albania and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the marimba 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 Bush Tetras to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Jeru the Damaja. All the underground hits.
All Young Marble Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Average White Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Green record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June Days,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Robert Görl,
DNA,
Bluetip,
Derrick May,
Nils Olav,
Surgeon,
The Monochrome Set,
Gastr Del Sol,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Smog,
Scientists,
The Angels of Light,
Sight & Sound,
Youth Brigade,
Terry Callier,
Saccharine Trust,
Todd Terry,
Radio Birdman,
Suburban Knight,
Basic Channel,
Q and Not U,
Oneida,
Nico,
Lou Christie,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Avey Tare,
Freddie Wadling,
The Fall,
Throbbing Gristle,
Popol Vuh,
Minnie Riperton,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
World's Most,
Don Cherry,
Icehouse,
The Beau Brummels,
James White and The Blacks,
Camouflage,
Neil Young,
Jacob Miller,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Dual Sessions,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Sexual Harrassment,
the Bar-Kays,
Wings,
Fad Gadget,
Kevin Saunderson,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Tres Demented,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Buzzcocks,
Curtis Mayfield,
Eurythmics,
John Holt,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Toni Rubio,
The Fuzztones,
The Slackers,
Lou Reed, Lou Reed, Lou Reed, Lou Reed.
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.