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 Guinea and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Supertramp to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Rhythim Is Rhythim. All the underground hits.
All Johnny Osbourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Holt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeff Mills record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Henry Cow,
UT,
London Community Gospel Choir,
ABBA,
The American Breed,
Nils Olav,
The Names,
Royal Trux,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Smiths,
Lucky Dragons,
Kenny Larkin,
Theoretical Girls,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Donald Byrd,
The Skatalites,
The Monochrome Set,
Surgeon,
The Seeds,
Barbara Tucker,
X-101,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Lungfish,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Ronan,
Jacob Miller,
Echospace,
Pole,
Eve St. Jones,
Idris Muhammad,
Girls At Our Best!,
DJ Style,
Mr. Review,
Symarip,
Thompson Twins,
Ossler,
Suicide,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Bluetip,
Magma,
the Fania All-Stars,
Chris & Cosey,
The Index,
The Litter,
New Age Steppers,
The Sonics,
Frankie Knuckles,
Funky Four + One,
Sunsets and Hearts,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Angels of Light,
Aural Exciters,
Joensuu 1685,
The Doobie Brothers,
Fluxion,
DNA,
Deakin,
Johnny Clarke,
Crime,
Moss Icon,
Smog,
Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu.
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.