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 Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 rhodes 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 David Bowie to the grunge 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 Susan Cadogan. All the underground hits.
All A Certain Ratio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lucky Dragons record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a CMW record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pet Shop Boys,
Sight & Sound,
Cal Tjader,
T. Rex,
Black Flag,
The Detroit Cobras,
The United States of America,
E-Dancer,
John Foxx,
Zero Boys,
Isaac Hayes,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Slick Rick,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
X-Ray Spex,
Porter Ricks,
EPMD,
Nico,
Sixth Finger,
The Fuzztones,
Vainqueur,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Barracudas,
Khruangbin,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Wings,
Letta Mbulu,
Dark Day,
The Star Department,
Reuben Wilson,
Blancmange,
Jacques Brel,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Index,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Gong,
Boogie Down Productions,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
One Last Wish,
James White and The Blacks,
The Alarm Clocks,
Leonard Cohen,
X-101,
Scratch Acid,
Althea and Donna,
Cheater Slicks,
Terry Callier,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Bob Dylan,
Marc Almond,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Altered Images,
Ash Ra Tempel,
La Düsseldorf,
Eve St. Jones,
Sun City Girls,
The Trojans,
Rapeman,
Joyce Sims,
Black Bananas,
Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra.
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.