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 Suriname and from Mexico City.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Winnipeg.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Average White Band to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Motorama. All the underground hits.
All MDC tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Starr 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Desert Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arab on Radar,
Pole,
The Fire Engines,
Goldenarms,
Susan Cadogan,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Alton Ellis,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Joe Smooth,
Jeru the Damaja,
Organ,
Niagra,
Stockholm Monsters,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Gerry Rafferty,
Robert Wyatt,
Cameo,
Ronan,
Slave,
Lower 48,
Don Cherry,
Quantec,
Swans,
Wasted Youth,
Au Pairs,
Yellowson,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Nirvana,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Basic Channel,
Inner City,
Fifty Foot Hose,
FM Einheit,
Pierre Henry,
Buzzcocks,
The Young Rascals,
The Kinks,
Motorama,
the Human League,
Boredoms,
Interpol,
Nico,
Ten City,
Max Romeo,
Nils Olav,
Duran Duran,
Grauzone,
Gang of Four,
Bootsy Collins,
Procol Harum,
Morten Harket,
Mad Mike,
Neu!,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Lou Reed,
Pharoah Sanders,
Davy DMX,
The Index,
Hot Snakes,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster.
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.