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 Israel and from Lyon.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the oboe 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 Joey Negro to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 L. Decosne. All the underground hits.
All Wire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Axelrod record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a This Heat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Five Americans,
Vladislav Delay,
Sight & Sound,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Piero Umiliani,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Modern Lovers,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Moody Blues,
Tropical Tobacco,
Ken Boothe,
Radio Birdman,
Alice Coltrane,
Godley & Creme,
Terrestrial Tones,
Glenn Branca,
Yusef Lateef,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Index,
Bill Near,
The Divine Comedy,
Tomorrow,
Underground Resistance,
Porter Ricks,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Donald Byrd,
Eden Ahbez,
Derrick Morgan,
Isaac Hayes,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Sam Rivers,
Alison Limerick,
The Dead C,
Soft Cell,
Ultravox,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Rod Modell,
Nik Kershaw,
Mandrill,
The New Christs,
Lucky Dragons,
Y Pants,
Can,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Malaria!,
Carl Craig,
Big Daddy Kane,
Jerry's Kids,
The Cure,
David Axelrod,
the Swans,
Cybotron,
Magazine,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Lower 48,
Babytalk,
Pulsallama,
Stockholm Monsters,
Rosa Yemen,
The Music Machine,
Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses.
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.