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 Djibouti and from Mexico City.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Angels of Light to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Move. All the underground hits.
All Fad Gadget tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gian Franco Pienzio record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Theoretical Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Girls At Our Best!,
Man Parrish,
Cal Tjader,
Marvin Gaye,
Robert Görl,
Electric Prunes,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Gun Club,
Deakin,
Sonic Youth,
Soft Machine,
Eurythmics,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Junior Murvin,
Mad Mike,
Sugar Minott,
Masters at Work,
Jeff Mills,
MDC,
Blake Baxter,
The Wake,
In Retrospect,
Accadde A,
The Happenings,
Radio Birdman,
Reuben Wilson,
Banda Bassotti,
The Angels of Light,
David Bowie,
The Durutti Column,
John Coltrane,
Eddi Front,
Albert Ayler,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Vainqueur,
Anthony Braxton,
Pulsallama,
Television,
A Flock of Seagulls,
John Holt,
Dave Gahan,
Grauzone,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Kas Product,
The Evens,
Fat Boys,
Chris & Cosey,
a-ha,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Sam Rivers,
ABBA,
The Monochrome Set,
The New Christs,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Steve Hackett,
Bobby Sherman,
Vladislav Delay,
Skaos,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Moleskins,
The Gladiators,
Marmalade,
The Remains, The Remains, The Remains, The Remains.
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.