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 Italy and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Hong Kong.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Dorothy Ashby to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Knickerbockers. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ronan 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rites of Spring record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Searchers,
Amon Düül II,
Roy Ayers,
Kurtis Blow,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Zapp,
Freddie Wadling,
Ultra Naté,
Bobby Womack,
The Red Krayola,
Kas Product,
The Birthday Party,
Grauzone,
Motorama,
Electric Prunes,
a-ha,
10cc,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Kevin Saunderson,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
the Normal,
Spandau Ballet,
Leonard Cohen,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Skatalites,
the Slits,
Average White Band,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Funky Four + One,
Barbara Tucker,
Gang Starr,
Reagan Youth,
Black Moon,
Animal Collective,
Magma,
Anakelly,
The Grass Roots,
Public Image Ltd.,
Moebius,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Silicon Teens,
Pylon,
The Fire Engines,
Visage,
Sonic Youth,
The Moody Blues,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Con Funk Shun,
Crime,
Reuben Wilson,
Matthew Halsall,
Ultimate Spinach,
Brass Construction,
Mars,
Robert Görl,
James White and The Blacks,
Aaron Thompson,
The Misunderstood,
Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work.
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.