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 Uzbekistan and from Halifax.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 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 DeepChord presents Echospace to the funk 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 Talk Talk. All the underground hits.
All Thee Headcoats tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bill Near 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tim Buckley record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Kinks,
Monks,
Connie Case,
June of 44,
Schoolly D,
Eric B and Rakim,
Youth Brigade,
Barrington Levy,
The Raincoats,
Byron Stingily,
Crooked Eye,
The Mojo Men,
Absolute Body Control,
Skriet,
Altered Images,
Barclay James Harvest,
Deepchord,
The Monks,
Pylon,
Roger Hodgson,
David Bowie,
The Electric Prunes,
Sun Ra,
R.M.O.,
Scratch Acid,
Cal Tjader,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Durutti Column,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Soulsonic Force,
Animal Collective,
Smog,
Marmalade,
Visage,
The Smiths,
Bobby Womack,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Last Poets,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Thompson Twins,
Whodini,
EPMD,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Alphaville,
Derrick May,
UT,
Arab on Radar,
Anthony Braxton,
Minutemen,
The Divine Comedy,
Nick Fraelich,
Swell Maps,
Hoover,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Names,
the Human League,
Stiv Bators,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Blancmange,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Glambeats Corp., Glambeats Corp., Glambeats Corp., Glambeats Corp..
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.