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 Serbia and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Mumbai.
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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 John Holt to the jazz 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 UT. All the underground hits.
All Boogie Down Productions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moby Grape record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 mellotron and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tubeway Army record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Das Ding,
Banda Bassotti,
The Litter,
The Count Five,
Alice Coltrane,
Bob Dylan,
The American Breed,
Funky Four + One,
B.T. Express,
Davy DMX,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Dennis Brown,
Glambeats Corp.,
Ossler,
Eurythmics,
Rosa Yemen,
Lyres,
The Birthday Party,
Electric Prunes,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Jacques Brel,
Gong,
Desert Stars,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Au Pairs,
KRS-One,
Gerry Rafferty,
Suicide,
The Gap Band,
Nick Fraelich,
Sonny Sharrock,
Fatback Band,
The Doors,
In Retrospect,
Bill Wells,
The Red Krayola,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Newcleus,
AZ,
Echospace,
Bootsy Collins,
The Durutti Column,
Heaven 17,
The Martian,
Lou Christie,
The Associates,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Fire Engines,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Standells,
David Axelrod,
Alphaville,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Minnie Riperton,
Amon Düül II,
X-101,
EPMD,
Hoover,
DJ Sneak,
Goldenarms,
Lalann, Lalann, Lalann, Lalann.
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.