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 United Kingdom and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 chamberlin 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 Neil Young to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Larry & the Blue Notes. All the underground hits.
All Maurizio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Johnny Osbourne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sad Lovers and Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stereo Dub,
Second Layer,
Soft Machine,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Porter Ricks,
Prince Buster,
Minnie Riperton,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Golliwogs,
JFA,
Crime,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Deepchord,
a-ha,
Kevin Saunderson,
Dave Gahan,
Toni Rubio,
This Heat,
Gregory Isaacs,
Angry Samoans,
Unrelated Segments,
Kenny Larkin,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Cybotron,
the Association,
Howard Jones,
Gichy Dan,
Fear,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Gabor Szabo,
Alice Coltrane,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Talk Talk,
Pere Ubu,
Mr. Review,
New Order,
Black Moon,
Magazine,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Funkadelic,
Urselle,
Reuben Wilson,
Todd Rundgren,
Dead Boys,
Bob Dylan,
Joyce Sims,
Janne Schatter,
Negative Approach,
Faust,
Camberwell Now,
Pantaleimon,
Alison Limerick,
The Raincoats,
Nils Olav,
Reagan Youth,
The Angels of Light,
The Leaves,
Minor Threat,
Blancmange,
Roxy Music,
Aloha Tigers,
The Fugs,
Accadde A,
Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw.
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.