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 Japan and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Fela Kuti to the techno 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 Heaven 17. All the underground hits.
All Tim Buckley tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Symarip record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Leaves record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pylon,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
David Bowie,
Shoche,
June Days,
Lightning Bolt,
the Germs,
Royal Trux,
Procol Harum,
Eric Dolphy,
The Motions,
Outsiders,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Infiniti,
Curtis Mayfield,
Smog,
Icehouse,
Sight & Sound,
Panda Bear,
Black Sheep,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Red Krayola,
Fluxion,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Flamin' Groovies,
Erykah Badu,
R.M.O.,
Surgeon,
Tres Demented,
Bill Wells,
Soft Machine,
Lower 48,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Sisters of Mercy,
David Axelrod,
Throbbing Gristle,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Last Poets,
Mark Hollis,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Gil Scott Heron,
Heaven 17,
Derrick Morgan,
Soft Cell,
The Smiths,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Unrelated Segments,
Nils Olav,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Grey Daturas,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Standells,
Warsaw,
Funky Four + One,
Underground Resistance,
Pantytec,
Country Teasers,
Rakim,
Fad Gadget,
Howard Jones,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs.
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.