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 Kyrgyzstan and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 spring reverb 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 Hashim to the electroclash 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 Symarip. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yaz 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Derrick May record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magazine,
Simply Red,
Surgeon,
Barclay James Harvest,
Mission of Burma,
Soulsonic Force,
Das Ding,
The Gap Band,
Ohio Players,
Public Enemy,
The Litter,
Sarah Menescal,
Morten Harket,
Yaz,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Television,
Popol Vuh,
Jeff Lynne,
F. McDonald,
The Fortunes,
Adolescents,
Howard Jones,
Los Fastidios,
Jeff Mills,
Bush Tetras,
Tommy Roe,
Althea and Donna,
Davy DMX,
Sugar Minott,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Detroit Cobras,
A Certain Ratio,
The Buckinghams,
Scratch Acid,
Piero Umiliani,
Absolute Body Control,
Juan Atkins,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Kaleidoscope,
Average White Band,
Bizarre Inc.,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Goldenarms,
DJ Sneak,
The Young Rascals,
Blossom Toes,
Aural Exciters,
Mars,
The Monks,
Roxette,
Cymande,
Lyres,
Sun Ra,
The Monochrome Set,
Harpers Bizarre,
Stockholm Monsters,
Negative Approach,
Crispy Ambulance,
Symarip,
T. Rex,
Gerry Rafferty,
Fifty Foot Hose, Fifty Foot Hose, Fifty Foot Hose, Fifty Foot Hose.
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.