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 Samoa and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 clarinet 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 Brand Nubian to the grime 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 Joey Negro. All the underground hits.
All David McCallum tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Funky Four + One 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 '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 Deadbeat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pylon,
10cc,
Andrew Hill,
Sällskapet,
Terrestrial Tones,
Circle Jerks,
Gabor Szabo,
Bootsy Collins,
Byron Stingily,
H. Thieme,
Amon Düül,
Organ,
Blossom Toes,
Franke,
Sixth Finger,
Fela Kuti,
Arab on Radar,
UT,
Yaz,
The Seeds,
Tomorrow,
Warsaw,
Michelle Simonal,
CMW,
The Pretty Things,
The Remains,
Neu!,
The Fall,
Yellowson,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Ice-T,
Tommy Roe,
Lyres,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Peter and Kerry,
the Normal,
Skaos,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Moody Blues,
Pole,
Slick Rick,
Tears for Fears,
Rosa Yemen,
Inner City,
The New Christs,
Bizarre Inc.,
Freddie Wadling,
Hashim,
the Soft Cell,
Guru Guru,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Lou Reed,
In Retrospect,
The Gun Club,
Boredoms,
Tres Demented,
Jeru the Damaja,
Symarip,
Surgeon,
Kayak,
Slave,
Jesper Dahlbäck, Jesper Dahlbäck, Jesper Dahlbäck, Jesper Dahlbäck.
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.