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 Kazakhstan and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 marimba 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 Fat Boys to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Nico. All the underground hits.
All Ash Ra Tempel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Duran Duran 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fat Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Howard Jones,
Aaron Thompson,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Maurizio,
Essential Logic,
Aural Exciters,
Black Moon,
Rekid,
Barrington Levy,
Lalo Schifrin,
James White and The Blacks,
Basic Channel,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Albert Ayler,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Busters,
Freddie Wadling,
Camouflage,
Barry Ungar,
Deakin,
Lucky Dragons,
Dawn Penn,
Pere Ubu,
Brothers Johnson,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Prince Buster,
Eurythmics,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Golliwogs,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Ituana,
New Order,
Amon Düül,
DNA,
The Flesh Eaters,
DJ Style,
The Vogues,
Hot Snakes,
Jacob Miller,
Gichy Dan,
Flipper,
Eden Ahbez,
Au Pairs,
Popol Vuh,
Roxy Music,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Skarface,
Rosa Yemen,
Visage,
Dead Boys,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Moss Icon,
Gastr Del Sol,
Gregory Isaacs,
Scientists,
Gong,
Deepchord,
Underground Resistance,
Tubeway Army,
Half Japanese,
Bill Wells, Bill Wells, Bill Wells, Bill Wells.
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.