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 Nigeria and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Audionom to the dance 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 Black Bananas. All the underground hits.
All 48th St. Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Axelrod record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Donny Hathaway,
John Holt,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Golliwogs,
Moebius,
The Velvet Underground,
Arthur Verocai,
Talk Talk,
H. Thieme,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
JFA,
Stiv Bators,
Quantec,
The Knickerbockers,
The Wake,
Juan Atkins,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Eli Mardock,
The Smiths,
Lightning Bolt,
Kenny Larkin,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Duran Duran,
Sam Rivers,
Deepchord,
Lucky Dragons,
the Normal,
Pere Ubu,
Bootsy Collins,
June Days,
Mad Mike,
Eric Copeland,
L. Decosne,
John Lydon,
La Düsseldorf,
Mark Hollis,
The Blackbyrds,
Erasure,
Vladislav Delay,
The Sound,
Sound Behaviour,
Matthew Halsall,
Panda Bear,
kango's stein massive,
Gerry Rafferty,
Rhythm & Sound,
Black Moon,
Guru Guru,
Lalo Schifrin,
Organ,
Altered Images,
Angry Samoans,
Deadbeat,
Robert Hood,
John Foxx,
the Slits,
Albert Ayler,
Radio Birdman,
Marshall Jefferson,
Easy Going,
Don Cherry,
Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson.
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.