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 Andorra and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron 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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 John Coltrane to the punk 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 Pierre Henry. All the underground hits.
All Nils Olav tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rufus Thomas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fad Gadget record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Certain Ratio,
Rakim,
Bobbi Humphrey,
the Germs,
The Blues Magoos,
The Blackbyrds,
Bob Dylan,
Johnny Osbourne,
Dawn Penn,
Symarip,
The Slackers,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Joensuu 1685,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Aaron Thompson,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Monolake,
Echospace,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Little Man,
The Victims,
Bizarre Inc.,
Hasil Adkins,
Marvin Gaye,
The Fuzztones,
Gichy Dan,
The Move,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Wolf Eyes,
Sister Nancy,
Negative Approach,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Minnie Riperton,
The Doobie Brothers,
Lindisfarne,
Hot Snakes,
New Age Steppers,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
EPMD,
The Fugs,
kango's stein massive,
Brass Construction,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Severed Heads,
F. McDonald,
Morten Harket,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Curtis Mayfield,
Bluetip,
Brand Nubian,
Bill Near,
Alice Coltrane,
the Bar-Kays,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Man Parrish,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Soft Cell,
Yaz,
The Techniques, The Techniques, The Techniques, The Techniques.
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.