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 Swaziland and from Bremen.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Warren Ellis to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Interpol. All the underground hits.
All Slick Rick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Hood 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Y Pants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pierre Henry,
Girls At Our Best!,
Bauhaus,
Bob Dylan,
Pylon,
Cluster,
June Days,
Whodini,
Ludus,
Vainqueur,
Ronnie Foster,
Gabor Szabo,
Derrick May,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Mars,
Monolake,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Grass Roots,
The Monks,
Sällskapet,
Heaven 17,
Henry Cow,
Mr. Review,
Von Mondo,
The Smiths,
Urselle,
The Sound,
Eric Copeland,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Chrome,
Faraquet,
The Standells,
X-102,
Ultimate Spinach,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Mission of Burma,
Jawbox,
Sister Nancy,
Don Cherry,
The Martian,
Nico,
Piero Umiliani,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Eric Dolphy,
Infiniti,
Joensuu 1685,
Neil Young,
Visage,
Aloha Tigers,
Cameo,
Rosa Yemen,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
James White and The Blacks,
Kerrie Biddell,
Jeru the Damaja,
Lebanon Hanover,
Judy Mowatt,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sight & Sound,
Drexciya,
Pole,
Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy.
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.