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 Zambia and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 arpeggiator 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 Lou Christie to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Gichy Dan. All the underground hits.
All F. McDonald tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sight & Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Infiniti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mission of Burma,
Rosa Yemen,
Dawn Penn,
The Velvet Underground,
Frankie Knuckles,
Alison Limerick,
Jeru the Damaja,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sparks,
Organ,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
the Soft Cell,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Wally Richardson,
The New Christs,
Brothers Johnson,
New Order,
The Fire Engines,
Grey Daturas,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Glenn Branca,
Nas,
X-102,
cv313,
Gil Scott Heron,
H. Thieme,
The Skatalites,
Ice-T,
The Mojo Men,
Ultra Naté,
Roger Hodgson,
Mary Jane Girls,
Fluxion,
Anakelly,
Sight & Sound,
Lindisfarne,
The Techniques,
Franke,
the Normal,
Suicide,
Arcadia,
The United States of America,
Dorothy Ashby,
Eric Dolphy,
The Last Poets,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Soulsonic Force,
Talk Talk,
Eden Ahbez,
Popol Vuh,
Steve Hackett,
Pagans,
Vladislav Delay,
10cc,
Sister Nancy,
Young Marble Giants,
Gastr Del Sol,
Ken Boothe,
The Slackers,
Drive Like Jehu,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs.
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.