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 Kyrgyzstan and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 spring reverb 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 Soft Machine to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Walker Brothers. All the underground hits.
All The Red Krayola tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Jesus and Mary Chain 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Amazonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Erykah Badu,
Trumans Water,
Marc Almond,
Jacques Brel,
Sight & Sound,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Theoretical Girls,
The Happenings,
Yaz,
Joe Smooth,
Roy Ayers,
The Saints,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Sandy B,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
David McCallum,
Oblivians,
Sun Ra,
The Five Americans,
Gerry Rafferty,
Maurizio,
Sarah Menescal,
Anthony Braxton,
Laurel Aitken,
Spoonie Gee,
Piero Umiliani,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Newcleus,
Tim Buckley,
Frankie Knuckles,
Cameo,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Toasters,
Wings,
Lungfish,
the Bar-Kays,
The Buckinghams,
Scott Walker,
Stereo Dub,
The Selecter,
kango's stein massive,
Flipper,
the Germs,
The Electric Prunes,
Fat Boys,
Slave,
Icehouse,
Warsaw,
Kool Moe Dee,
Fluxion,
The Alarm Clocks,
Index,
Ken Boothe,
Soulsonic Force,
The Pop Group,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Minor Threat,
Connie Case,
Au Pairs,
Goldenarms, Goldenarms, Goldenarms, Goldenarms.
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.