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 Mauritania and from Sao Paulo.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 arpeggiator 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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud to the rap 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 The Flesh Eaters. All the underground hits.
All ABC tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rahsaan Roland Kirk record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an oboe and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Andrew Hill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New Order,
The Velvet Underground,
Sandy B,
Zapp,
Deakin,
Barry Ungar,
Organ,
cv313,
Wire,
Janne Schatter,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Monolake,
Eve St. Jones,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Cymande,
One Last Wish,
June Days,
Black Bananas,
Johnny Osbourne,
Main Source,
Supertramp,
The Offenders,
Toni Rubio,
Moby Grape,
T.S.O.L.,
Yellowson,
Alice Coltrane,
Symarip,
Franke,
H. Thieme,
Lower 48,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Doors,
Tim Buckley,
China Crisis,
Alison Limerick,
Cal Tjader,
Jandek,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Suburban Knight,
Sonic Youth,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Nik Kershaw,
The Smoke,
Chris & Cosey,
Ultra Naté,
Infiniti,
Matthew Bourne,
Loose Ends,
Second Layer,
Funky Four + One,
Gastr Del Sol,
Fad Gadget,
Shoche,
Sällskapet,
Erasure,
Mo-Dettes,
Jeff Mills,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Kevin Saunderson,
Archie Shepp,
Clear Light,
Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth.
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.