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 Botswana and from Sao Paulo.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
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 World's Most to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Moby Grape. All the underground hits.
All Marvin Gaye tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bizarre Inc. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Beau Brummels record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vainqueur,
Trumans Water,
Soft Cell,
Gang Green,
John Cale,
Bob Dylan,
Easy Going,
Sister Nancy,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Mummies,
Flash Fearless,
Ultra Naté,
Bill Wells,
Skriet,
Todd Terry,
CMW,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Pet Shop Boys,
Aural Exciters,
Gastr Del Sol,
June of 44,
Quando Quango,
Agent Orange,
Hoover,
The Busters,
Man Eating Sloth,
Sällskapet,
Livin' Joy,
The Music Machine,
Joe Smooth,
The Blackbyrds,
The Evens,
Amon Düül II,
Howard Jones,
X-Ray Spex,
Infiniti,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Scion,
Bobby Sherman,
Joensuu 1685,
The Buckinghams,
Grey Daturas,
Donald Byrd,
Iggy Pop,
Visage,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Throbbing Gristle,
Aaron Thompson,
Electric Prunes,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Cal Tjader,
The Invisible,
Soulsonic Force,
Depeche Mode,
Moebius,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Roy Ayers,
The Five Americans,
Animal Collective,
Kaleidoscope,
Jacques Brel,
Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker.
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.