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 Sri Lanka and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Seoul.
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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the marimba 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 London Community Gospel Choir to the electroclash 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 Bobby Hutcherson. All the underground hits.
All Anakelly tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lyres record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Matthew Bourne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin 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 Pretty Things,
Adolescents,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Mad Mike,
Rakim,
Sandy B,
Suicide,
Ossler,
One Last Wish,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
John Holt,
Letta Mbulu,
EPMD,
Terry Callier,
Bang On A Can,
Minutemen,
DNA,
The J.B.'s,
Mission of Burma,
Arcadia,
Audionom,
Echospace,
Blancmange,
Bauhaus,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Walker Brothers,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Public Image Ltd.,
the Normal,
Desert Stars,
Magazine,
Section 25,
Boredoms,
Skriet,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Jeru the Damaja,
Arthur Verocai,
Henry Cow,
Donald Byrd,
Derrick May,
Buzzcocks,
The Toasters,
Avey Tare,
Mark Hollis,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Fortunes,
Electric Prunes,
The Dead C,
Massinfluence,
Judy Mowatt,
Faust,
Whodini,
Lebanon Hanover,
Moby Grape,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Fela Kuti,
Q and Not U,
Monks,
The Moleskins, The Moleskins, The Moleskins, The Moleskins.
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.