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 United Kingdom and from Tokyo.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Cal Tjader to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Spandau Ballet. All the underground hits.
All Barclay James Harvest tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Selecter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Piero Umiliani record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Funky Four + One,
Visage,
Ultimate Spinach,
Livin' Joy,
The Fugs,
Nirvana,
Bronski Beat,
Chrome,
Roy Ayers,
Aloha Tigers,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
the Bar-Kays,
John Coltrane,
Das Ding,
Duran Duran,
Deepchord,
David Bowie,
Rakim,
Crispian St. Peters,
Fad Gadget,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Roger Hodgson,
The Five Americans,
Toni Rubio,
Ten City,
The Electric Prunes,
Charles Mingus,
Mark Hollis,
Soul II Soul,
Liliput,
The Techniques,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Inner City,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Selecter,
Flamin' Groovies,
Grey Daturas,
Rotary Connection,
Susan Cadogan,
Metal Thangz,
Marmalade,
Stetsasonic,
The Alarm Clocks,
Pussy Galore,
The Motions,
the Germs,
Circle Jerks,
Trumans Water,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Jerry's Kids,
Dennis Brown,
Lalann,
Kerri Chandler,
D'Angelo,
Gang Gang Dance,
Wings,
Sonny Sharrock,
Sun City Girls,
Unrelated Segments,
Franke,
Theoretical Girls,
Zero Boys, Zero Boys, Zero Boys, Zero Boys.
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.