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 Egypt and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Bologna.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Spoonie Gee to the funk 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 Albert Ayler. All the underground hits.
All kango's stein massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every These Immortal Souls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alice Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mandrill,
The Seeds,
Surgeon,
Yazoo,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Scion,
E-Dancer,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Adolescents,
Underground Resistance,
Silicon Teens,
Con Funk Shun,
Jeff Mills,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Procol Harum,
Joy Division,
The Pop Group,
The Victims,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Monochrome Set,
Second Layer,
The Dirtbombs,
The Black Dice,
Sexual Harrassment,
Judy Mowatt,
Alice Coltrane,
The Real Kids,
B.T. Express,
Crash Course in Science,
Warren Ellis,
Peter & Gordon,
Sun City Girls,
Stockholm Monsters,
Visage,
Yellowson,
The Fall,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Stiv Bators,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
One Last Wish,
The Count Five,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Index,
Robert Wyatt,
Joensuu 1685,
Sister Nancy,
The Skatalites,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Fire Engines,
PIL,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Selecter,
Gerry Rafferty,
June of 44,
Bauhaus,
Stereo Dub,
Boogie Down Productions,
Sixth Finger,
Moebius,
John Holt, John Holt, John Holt, John Holt.
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.