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 Sudan and from Accra.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Gerry Rafferty to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 E-Dancer. All the underground hits.
All Sight & Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gladiators record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a De La Soul & Jungle Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Martian,
Derrick May,
X-102,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Dawn Penn,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Marc Almond,
Amon Düül II,
The Mummies,
Nas,
Althea and Donna,
Jesper Dahlback,
Lucky Dragons,
Roy Ayers,
Procol Harum,
Pet Shop Boys,
Echospace,
Depeche Mode,
The Moody Blues,
The Angels of Light,
These Immortal Souls,
Big Daddy Kane,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Idris Muhammad,
Yellowson,
Hashim,
Circle Jerks,
U.S. Maple,
Minor Threat,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Mr. Review,
Drexciya,
Angry Samoans,
Section 25,
F. McDonald,
the Bar-Kays,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Human League,
Bob Dylan,
Livin' Joy,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Magazine,
The Music Machine,
Aloha Tigers,
Au Pairs,
Bill Near,
Country Teasers,
Motorama,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Grass Roots,
Robert Wyatt,
Warren Ellis,
Traffic Nightmare,
Liliput,
The Offenders,
Vladislav Delay,
Sarah Menescal,
The Shadows of Knight,
Don Cherry,
Main Source,
Arab on Radar,
CMW,
Mandrill,
Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon.
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.