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 Maldives and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Taipei.
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 Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 B.T. Express to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Donny Hathaway. All the underground hits.
All Magma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Divine Comedy 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lizzy Mercier Descloux record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Con Funk Shun,
T.S.O.L.,
Gang Starr,
Todd Rundgren,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Franke,
Marine Girls,
Dual Sessions,
Fluxion,
48th St. Collective,
Quadrant,
Magma,
Crash Course in Science,
Gerry Rafferty,
Anthony Braxton,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Suicide,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Hoover,
Loose Ends,
Glambeats Corp.,
Letta Mbulu,
Ronnie Foster,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
DJ Sneak,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Bob Dylan,
The J.B.'s,
Byron Stingily,
Roger Hodgson,
David Bowie,
Bauhaus,
Amazonics,
The Red Krayola,
Pulsallama,
Au Pairs,
Angry Samoans,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Electric Prunes,
Juan Atkins,
Boogie Down Productions,
Lyres,
Junior Murvin,
Alton Ellis,
Barclay James Harvest,
Slave,
Man Eating Sloth,
Cluster,
Derrick Morgan,
The Mojo Men,
Rufus Thomas,
Tubeway Army,
The Slits,
Radio Birdman,
Graham Central Station,
Accadde A,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Kerri Chandler,
Sarah Menescal,
The Mummies,
Trumans Water,
The Pop Group,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes.
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.