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 Tanzania and from Seoul.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 mellotron 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 the Normal to the grime 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 Thompson Twins. All the underground hits.
All Lindisfarne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Coltrane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Leaves record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The J.B.'s,
Eddi Front,
Quadrant,
Cluster,
Porter Ricks,
Albert Ayler,
KRS-One,
Clear Light,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Hoover,
John Holt,
Joensuu 1685,
X-101,
The Dead C,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Cecil Taylor,
the Sonics,
Rufus Thomas,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Half Japanese,
Crooked Eye,
Absolute Body Control,
Bobby Sherman,
A Certain Ratio,
The Grass Roots,
Harmonia,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Slave,
Josef K,
Jacob Miller,
Liliput,
The Flesh Eaters,
Negative Approach,
Letta Mbulu,
The Doors,
the Human League,
The Slits,
Technova,
Electric Prunes,
X-Ray Spex,
Hot Snakes,
The Smiths,
K-Klass,
Marvin Gaye,
Infiniti,
Q and Not U,
Aswad,
Radio Birdman,
Crash Course in Science,
Kerrie Biddell,
Ultra Naté,
The Wake,
The Durutti Column,
Swell Maps,
Sight & Sound,
Siglo XX,
The Saints,
Pere Ubu,
Nico, Nico, Nico, Nico.
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.