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 Iran and from Bremen.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Unrelated Segments to the grunge 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 Roger Hodgson. All the underground hits.
All The Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every These Immortal Souls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pere Ubu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slick Rick,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Stetsasonic,
Icehouse,
Al Stewart,
Eric Dolphy,
Erasure,
Zero Boys,
Soft Cell,
Saccharine Trust,
the Slits,
Wolf Eyes,
Pantaleimon,
Buzzcocks,
Pulsallama,
Negative Approach,
Hoover,
Brothers Johnson,
The Durutti Column,
PIL,
Chrome,
The Wake,
Eve St. Jones,
The Offenders,
Curtis Mayfield,
Boredoms,
Roger Hodgson,
Bootsy Collins,
Zapp,
Intrusion,
Easy Going,
Aaron Thompson,
Gabor Szabo,
Sun City Girls,
Donny Hathaway,
The Buckinghams,
Yaz,
Lou Christie,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Los Fastidios,
Scion,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Robert Wyatt,
Pussy Galore,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Electric Prunes,
Gang Starr,
Johnny Clarke,
KRS-One,
Das Ding,
Franke,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Cramps,
Visage,
Nico,
Ituana,
Fad Gadget,
Man Eating Sloth,
Swans,
Howard Jones,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Prince Buster,
Bill Wells, Bill Wells, Bill Wells, Bill Wells.
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.