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 Maldives and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Philadelphia.
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 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 8 Eyed Spy to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 DJ Style. All the underground hits.
All Eyeless In Gaza tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Strawberry Alarm Clock record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pantytec record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jacques Brel,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The New Christs,
Guru Guru,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Cure,
The American Breed,
Rakim,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Todd Rundgren,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Beau Brummels,
Public Image Ltd.,
Second Layer,
Ten City,
John Lydon,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Trojans,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Rotary Connection,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Howard Jones,
Anakelly,
Electric Prunes,
Ultimate Spinach,
June Days,
Isaac Hayes,
Goldenarms,
Wally Richardson,
Smog,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Misunderstood,
The Barracudas,
The Smoke,
La Düsseldorf,
DJ Sneak,
The Birthday Party,
Ituana,
Steve Hackett,
The Fortunes,
Blancmange,
Henry Cow,
Lou Christie,
The Invisible,
The Searchers,
Kevin Saunderson,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Stooges,
Wire,
Echospace,
Shoche,
Swell Maps,
JFA,
Magazine,
Kaleidoscope,
Oblivians,
The Modern Lovers,
Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus.
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.