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 Denmark and from London.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Little Man to the jazz 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 The Peanut Butter Conspiracy. All the underground hits.
All Toni Rubio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sad Lovers and Giants record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spandau Ballet,
Jeff Mills,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Mission of Burma,
Joe Smooth,
Kayak,
Wire,
Sexual Harrassment,
Erasure,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Eden Ahbez,
The Misunderstood,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Angry Samoans,
Quantec,
Lungfish,
The Buckinghams,
Alice Coltrane,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Traffic Nightmare,
June of 44,
Connie Case,
Drive Like Jehu,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Sight & Sound,
Marcia Griffiths,
B.T. Express,
Scan 7,
Scott Walker,
Outsiders,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Shadows of Knight,
the Fania All-Stars,
the Bar-Kays,
The Saints,
Guru Guru,
Camouflage,
The Techniques,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Talk Talk,
The American Breed,
Sixth Finger,
KRS-One,
Boredoms,
The Dead C,
The Toasters,
The Standells,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Laurel Aitken,
Essential Logic,
Clear Light,
Funkadelic,
Crooked Eye,
Siglo XX,
Dennis Brown,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Nik Kershaw,
Cal Tjader,
John Lydon,
Suicide,
Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield.
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.