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 Kiribati and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 the Association 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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks. All the underground hits.
All Make Up tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terror Squad Feat. Camron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Malaria! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quando Quango,
Pole,
Bobby Byrd,
Hasil Adkins,
Rosa Yemen,
Young Marble Giants,
Camouflage,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Divine Comedy,
June Days,
The Fuzztones,
Soul Sonic Force,
Tomorrow,
Organ,
Sixth Finger,
Hot Snakes,
Quadrant,
Basic Channel,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Sparks,
Severed Heads,
Infiniti,
Crash Course in Science,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Girls At Our Best!,
Khruangbin,
James White and The Blacks,
Byron Stingily,
The Cure,
Danielle Patucci,
Cybotron,
Alton Ellis,
Average White Band,
The Black Dice,
Jimmy McGriff,
Nik Kershaw,
The Pretty Things,
The Gap Band,
T. Rex,
Bobby Sherman,
Ultravox,
LL Cool J,
Delon & Dalcan,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Ludus,
The Alarm Clocks,
Brick,
U.S. Maple,
Maurizio,
Motorama,
Iggy Pop,
Warsaw,
Patti Smith,
The Shadows of Knight,
Nation of Ulysses,
Y Pants,
Ornette Coleman,
Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd.
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.