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 Chad and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Accra.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Hoover to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Heavy D & The Boyz. All the underground hits.
All John Holt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mandrill 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 mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hoover 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?
Bang On A Can,
Livin' Joy,
Matthew Bourne,
Judy Mowatt,
Neil Young,
Freddie Wadling,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The American Breed,
Johnny Osbourne,
Massinfluence,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Moleskins,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Japan,
Jeff Mills,
Scott Walker,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Ten City,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Ken Boothe,
John Cale,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Barry Ungar,
Arcadia,
Camberwell Now,
Jeff Lynne,
Electric Prunes,
kango's stein massive,
Masters at Work,
The Fall,
F. McDonald,
Howard Jones,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Swell Maps,
The Happenings,
Wolf Eyes,
Soft Machine,
Erykah Badu,
The Searchers,
Nation of Ulysses,
Visage,
Sun City Girls,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Radio Birdman,
Rakim,
New York Dolls,
Lakeside,
The Gladiators,
Donald Byrd,
Amon Düül II,
Sandy B,
Brass Construction,
Lightning Bolt,
The Associates,
Moebius,
Technova,
Connie Case,
The Real Kids,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Rufus Thomas,
B.T. Express,
Sonic Youth,
Blancmange,
Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control.
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.