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 Brunei and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 clarinet 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 Pet Shop Boys to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Justin Hinds & The Dominoes. All the underground hits.
All New York Dolls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Angels of Light record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Angels of Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Tremeloes,
Sound Behaviour,
Junior Murvin,
Wings,
Charles Mingus,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Marmalade,
Kerrie Biddell,
Lindisfarne,
Man Parrish,
Fear,
JFA,
The Divine Comedy,
Brothers Johnson,
Janne Schatter,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Infiniti,
Blossom Toes,
The Flesh Eaters,
Black Pus,
Arthur Verocai,
Anthony Braxton,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Moleskins,
Al Stewart,
Lightning Bolt,
Khruangbin,
Glenn Branca,
Half Japanese,
Desert Stars,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Donald Byrd,
Das Ding,
Boogie Down Productions,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Kaleidoscope,
Yusef Lateef,
The Invisible,
Bobby Sherman,
Icehouse,
Letta Mbulu,
Newcleus,
Sugar Minott,
E-Dancer,
Swell Maps,
Ronan,
Young Marble Giants,
The Fall,
Fad Gadget,
Eden Ahbez,
Aaron Thompson,
Mad Mike,
Bad Manners,
Joensuu 1685,
John Holt,
Joe Smooth,
Parry Music,
Bobby Byrd,
The Cowsills,
Dorothy Ashby,
Motorama,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Robert Hood,
Sparks, Sparks, Sparks, Sparks.
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.