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 Manila.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 oboe 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 Rotary Connection to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Harpers Bizarre. All the underground hits.
All Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric B and Rakim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Barracudas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Depeche Mode,
Jeru the Damaja,
Joensuu 1685,
Eric Copeland,
Lungfish,
Davy DMX,
UT,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Black Dice,
Essential Logic,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Hot Snakes,
Electric Prunes,
Marc Almond,
Minnie Riperton,
The Electric Prunes,
Angry Samoans,
Gabor Szabo,
The Count Five,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Doobie Brothers,
Albert Ayler,
Stereo Dub,
Los Fastidios,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Barbara Tucker,
Prince Buster,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Misunderstood,
The Buckinghams,
The Dirtbombs,
Vladislav Delay,
Ponytail,
Whodini,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Model 500,
Roxy Music,
The Moleskins,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Trojans,
Blancmange,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Panda Bear,
Jawbox,
Yusef Lateef,
The Residents,
Supertramp,
The Durutti Column,
Von Mondo,
Eden Ahbez,
Dorothy Ashby,
Magazine,
Swans,
Oblivians,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Gories,
Susan Cadogan,
Roy Ayers,
Lalann,
Deadbeat,
Echospace,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Roxette,
Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti.
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.