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 Grenada and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Deepchord to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Morten Harket. All the underground hits.
All Aaron Thompson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Blues Magoos 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lizzy Mercier Descloux record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sex Pistols,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
a-ha,
Soul II Soul,
Boogie Down Productions,
Max Romeo,
Magazine,
Terry Callier,
Swans,
Lungfish,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Knickerbockers,
Marine Girls,
10cc,
Television,
Bobby Sherman,
Franke,
Slave,
Moby Grape,
Bill Near,
LL Cool J,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Tubeway Army,
The Gladiators,
The Alarm Clocks,
Qualms,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Robert Wyatt,
The United States of America,
Buzzcocks,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Yusef Lateef,
The Litter,
Lou Christie,
Khruangbin,
Infiniti,
Maurizio,
Matthew Bourne,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lebanon Hanover,
Thee Headcoats,
Pantaleimon,
The Monks,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Deakin,
Interpol,
The Victims,
Derrick Morgan,
The Raincoats,
Amon Düül II,
Monks,
Bill Wells,
Scan 7,
Bluetip,
Gabor Szabo,
The Divine Comedy,
Anakelly,
Byron Stingily,
DNA,
Smog,
Scrapy,
Sun Ra,
Talk Talk, Talk Talk, Talk Talk, Talk Talk.
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.