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 Dominican Republic and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the marimba 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 Anthony Braxton to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Harpers Bizarre. All the underground hits.
All The Gories tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Techniques record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nirvana record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blake Baxter,
Desert Stars,
Stiv Bators,
Joey Negro,
Vladislav Delay,
Cymande,
Essential Logic,
Ralphi Rosario,
Pole,
Quando Quango,
The Beau Brummels,
The Blues Magoos,
Moebius,
The Gap Band,
Kevin Saunderson,
Johnny Clarke,
The Red Krayola,
Siglo XX,
The Young Rascals,
Soulsonic Force,
Lebanon Hanover,
Khruangbin,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Kenny Larkin,
a-ha,
Radiohead,
Fela Kuti,
Henry Cow,
Urselle,
Altered Images,
Wire,
the Normal,
The Raincoats,
Wolf Eyes,
Sparks,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Visage,
The United States of America,
Gerry Rafferty,
Patti Smith,
The Last Poets,
Little Man,
Stetsasonic,
June Days,
Derrick May,
The Selecter,
The Seeds,
Jeff Lynne,
Technova,
Juan Atkins,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Fire Engines,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Aural Exciters,
Camouflage,
Dawn Penn,
Hasil Adkins,
Neil Young,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Brand Nubian,
Masters at Work,
The Buckinghams,
The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators.
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.