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 Kazakhstan and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the sitar 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 Khruangbin to the crunk 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 Kayak. All the underground hits.
All Bluetip tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liliput record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Black Moon,
The Searchers,
Scientists,
The Saints,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Amazonics,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Q65,
Cybotron,
Big Daddy Kane,
cv313,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Zeros,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Nation of Ulysses,
Minny Pops,
The Fire Engines,
Crispy Ambulance,
Marcia Griffiths,
Sam Rivers,
The Knickerbockers,
Ultra Naté,
the Fania All-Stars,
Essential Logic,
Chris & Cosey,
June Days,
Bill Near,
Cameo,
Yaz,
Piero Umiliani,
Sugar Minott,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Whodini,
Warsaw,
Funky Four + One,
Nas,
Lucky Dragons,
Jawbox,
Sight & Sound,
Mark Hollis,
Joensuu 1685,
The Evens,
Gichy Dan,
Supertramp,
Franke,
Malaria!,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Smog,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Laurel Aitken,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Infiniti,
The Invisible,
Throbbing Gristle,
New Order,
Lou Christie,
K-Klass,
Rosa Yemen,
Matthew Bourne,
Crime, Crime, Crime, Crime.
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.