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 Cuba and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Lee Hazlewood to the funk 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 Schoolly D. All the underground hits.
All Porter Ricks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Piero Umiliani record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Move record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Move,
Lindisfarne,
Blancmange,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
B.T. Express,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Black Dice,
Crash Course in Science,
Kerrie Biddell,
Bobby Womack,
The Motions,
Inner City,
F. McDonald,
X-Ray Spex,
Eddi Front,
Half Japanese,
Marc Almond,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Soul Sonic Force,
Ultimate Spinach,
Grandmaster Flash,
Delon & Dalcan,
Fela Kuti,
Sam Rivers,
Avey Tare,
Eli Mardock,
Lee Hazlewood,
Shoche,
the Swans,
Pierre Henry,
Joey Negro,
Matthew Halsall,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Blake Baxter,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Kayak,
Niagra,
Letta Mbulu,
Nick Fraelich,
Guru Guru,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
June Days,
Quantec,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The American Breed,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Gories,
T. Rex,
Index,
Nils Olav,
Simply Red,
Scratch Acid,
Rites of Spring,
Groovy Waters,
Brand Nubian,
Isaac Hayes,
Gang of Four,
Black Flag,
Glenn Branca,
Von Mondo,
Fear,
The Techniques,
Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth.
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.