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 El Salvador 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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 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 Audionom to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Spandau Ballet. All the underground hits.
All David Bowie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James White and The Blacks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Livin' Joy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Anakelly,
Hot Snakes,
The Litter,
Soft Machine,
EPMD,
F. McDonald,
Robert Wyatt,
Crispy Ambulance,
Kerri Chandler,
John Lydon,
Symarip,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Kayak,
Robert Görl,
Don Cherry,
Inner City,
Q and Not U,
Ponytail,
Pere Ubu,
Make Up,
Groovy Waters,
The Shadows of Knight,
Animal Collective,
The Offenders,
Blossom Toes,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Bill Near,
Wire,
Khruangbin,
Sight & Sound,
Sexual Harrassment,
a-ha,
The Invisible,
Aural Exciters,
Goldenarms,
Roxy Music,
Jimmy McGriff,
Heaven 17,
The Music Machine,
Scan 7,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Joyce Sims,
Dark Day,
the Bar-Kays,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Mantronix,
Echospace,
Erykah Badu,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Henry Cow,
The United States of America,
Kurtis Blow,
Guru Guru,
Marcia Griffiths,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Yazoo,
Thompson Twins,
Lalann,
Youth Brigade,
Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun.
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.