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 Zambia and from Portland.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Cairo.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the 808 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 Loose Ends to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 B.T. Express. All the underground hits.
All Panda Bear tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thee Headcoats record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
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 Amon Düül record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Groovy Waters,
The Smoke,
Joyce Sims,
DNA,
Thompson Twins,
Fugazi,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Crispy Ambulance,
Wolf Eyes,
Soft Machine,
Sandy B,
The Five Americans,
Masters at Work,
Gregory Isaacs,
Neil Young,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Cymande,
Clear Light,
Carl Craig,
Bob Dylan,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Chris & Cosey,
The Dead C,
Mary Jane Girls,
Pulsallama,
Ultra Naté,
Marcia Griffiths,
Girls At Our Best!,
Smog,
The Offenders,
Gang Green,
R.M.O.,
Silicon Teens,
Ludus,
Harmonia,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Subhumans,
FM Einheit,
Soft Cell,
Johnny Osbourne,
Sarah Menescal,
Au Pairs,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
cv313,
The Gories,
Wasted Youth,
Isaac Hayes,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
KRS-One,
New York Dolls,
Lucky Dragons,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Fatback Band,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Lou Christie,
The Moody Blues,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Babytalk,
U.S. Maple,
Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment.
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.