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 Tajikistan and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the linndrum 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 La Düsseldorf to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Aswad. All the underground hits.
All the Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The United States of America 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Simply Red record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Y Pants,
the Slits,
Henry Cow,
Unrelated Segments,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Cramps,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Colin Newman,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Sällskapet,
Rhythm & Sound,
Quantec,
Hasil Adkins,
a-ha,
Eden Ahbez,
The Evens,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
E-Dancer,
Rufus Thomas,
Amon Düül II,
Albert Ayler,
Black Moon,
Joe Smooth,
Ponytail,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Ossler,
Gang Starr,
The Count Five,
kango's stein massive,
Scion,
LL Cool J,
Stockholm Monsters,
Eve St. Jones,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Pretty Things,
Neil Young,
Echospace,
Loose Ends,
Cameo,
KRS-One,
Andrew Hill,
Heaven 17,
Lalo Schifrin,
Jimmy McGriff,
Moebius,
Talk Talk,
The Birthday Party,
Jacques Brel,
Zero Boys,
Thompson Twins,
Maleditus Sound,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Star Department,
Sam Rivers,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Beau Brummels,
Alison Limerick,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Television,
Rotary Connection,
Monolake,
Maurizio,
Excepter, Excepter, Excepter, Excepter.
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.